SUMMER TOUR
by Cass and Cassidy
Summary: The Partridges take a documentary film crew on tour with them; a decision that has dire consequences for Keith!
1. Default Chapter

SUMMER TOUR   
  
  
  
Shirley Partridge glanced at the clock in the kitchen. It read 3:00 p.m. and she braced herself. Any moment now, her five offspring would be traipsing in with their books and jackets and lunchpails and depositing everything in the kitchen and/or living room; anywhere there was a space to be had. It was the last day of school, after all, and all remnants of civility would be banished to the far reaches of September future.   
  
She sighed heavily. At least it would be a busy summer. Reuben had the Family scheduled from one coast to the other, 22 cities in three months. No time for the usual arguments, dating sagas or boredom of any kind. Their lives for the next 90 days would revolve around rehearsals, driving, interviews, autograph sessions, and for Keith, songwriting and arranging. It would be exhausting but rewarding. It was the kind of life to which Shirley and the others had become accustomed, and almost looked forward to. Almost. The front door slammed; a sure sign that one of the kids was home. Shirley waited for a voice to call her. "Mom!" Sure enough; it was Danny.   
  
"I'm in the kitchen," Shirley replied.   
  
Her middle son ploughed through the kitchen door, An expression of exuberance on his freckled face. "What's there to eat?" He headed for the fridge.   
  
"There's milk, and Mrs. Monahan sent over some cookies to thank me for helping out on the clothing drive." Shirley answered, indicating the plate piled with cookies there on the table. "Where did you put your school books? On the sofa, I suppose."   
  
Pouring himself a tall glass of milk, Danny shrugged. "Yeah, but there's only two books. The teachers took back all the rest. My report card's in my jacket pocket."   
  
Shirley eyed him. "Which is…on the floor, right?"   
  
Danny grinned, taking a bite out of the cookie in his hand. "How'd you guess?"   
  
"Intuition." Shirley sighed again as the front door opened and closed once more. "Mom!"   
  
This time it was Laurie, and again Shirley indicated her whereabouts. "Kitchen!"   
  
Laurie pushed the door open far gentler than Danny had done. She was still carrying her books, and her sweater was tied neatly around her shoulders. "Hi. Any mail?"   
  
"It's on the piano." Shirley told her. Laurie always was the tidiest of the brood.   
  
"Great!" Laurie plopped the books onto the counter and tossed the sweater on top. Well, so much for neatness… "I'm looking for my Tomorrow's Woman."   
  
"Me, too," Danny chimed in, still chomping on his cookie.   
  
The back door flung open and Keith entered, looking frazzled. "I swear, if I see one more test paper I'm gonna die!" he moaned. His books skidded across the table, narrowly missing Danny's milk glass.   
  
"Tests? On the last day of school? Isn't that a bit odd?" Shirley queried.   
  
"I'll say. I had two make-up tests. Two! You know, for the ones I missed earlier this quarter when I had the flu." Keith took a cookie from the plate on the table. "I'm pretty sure I aced them. Did Reuben bring over the tour schedule?"   
  
"Yes, it's on the bulletin board. As soon as Chris and Tracy come home, we're going to have a family caucus," Shirley said. She knew as fond as Keith was of school (okay, so 'fond' was a little strong), the music end of his life was even more important; exciting, even. It was tough keeping his feet on the ground. Perspective was very important to someone in Keith's position. Seventeen and the center of a very popular rock band…a dream come true. He was a very level-headed boy, but like all children of his generation, he would occasionally stray from the principles Shirley had done her best to instill in him and the others. Nothing serious thus far, but one never knew.   
  
"Great," Keith stepped around the table and snatched the paper from off of the corkboard. He sat down at the table, his eyes scanning the itinerary, lost in his own world once more.   
  
The front door opened again, this time bringing with it Reuben's voice. "Anybody home?"   
  
"In the kitchen!" Danny, Shirley and Laurie chorused.   
  
They were surprised to see not only Reuben enter, but Chris and Tracy as well.   
  
"Hi, Mom, guess what? Mr. Kincaid gave us a ride home!" Tracy hoisted her lunch pail and several disorderly papers up onto the counter.   
  
"How nice!" Shirley said, taking Chris's books and lunch box from him just before he dumped them on the floor.   
  
"Well, they were only a couple of blocks away from home, but Tracy here was losing her artwork all along the street, so…" Reuben instinctively reached for a cookie from the plate. Noting Keith's concentration on the paper in his hand, he asked, "Is that the tour schedule?"   
  
"Mmmm-hmm," Keith murmured without missing a beat. Finally he looked up. "Looks okay, except for the jump from Santa Fe to Tampa and back to Phoenix. In five days? The bus will never make it back and forth like that."   
  
"I know, but I had no choice. We'll just have to fly." Reuben folded his arms across his large chest.   
  
"We? Does that mean you're going, too?" Danny asked.   
  
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Actually, there's a week there in July that I'll be in Canada, setting up your fall tour, so you'll have to get along without me."   
  
"Oh, gee…I don't know…we've managed to so far, right, gang?" Laurie smirked.   
  
"Kids," Shirley said warningly. "You're always welcome to come along with us, Reuben, you know that."   
  
"Yeah. When I get tired of getting on Keith's nerves, I know I can always turn to you." Danny grinned.   
  
"Thanks, kid." Reuben's sarcastic smile had a soft edge to it. "It's good to be needed."   
  
Shirley pulled out a chair at the table. "We do need to discuss this. If it's going to interfere with anything pressing, we'll need to do some rearranging. Fair enough?"   
  
"What…would you call 'pressing,' Mom?" Laurie asked as she, Chris, Tracy and Reuben joined their mother and brothers at the table.   
  
"Oh, things like summer school." She looked around the table. She hadn't seen anything in the way of report cards as of yet, so the possibility was there.   
  
Everyone shook their heads 'no' and Reuben let out the breath he'd been holding.   
  
Shirley smiled, pleased. "All right, then…any physical problems we need to deal with? I would like everyone to get a check up before we go."   
  
"Aw, Mom," Danny griped. "We had one before school started!"   
  
"I realize that, but it has been nine months."   
  
"I think I speak for everyone when I say we've never felt better, right?" Laurie spread her hands.   
  
The others concurred, heads nodding.   
  
Shirley glanced at Reuben. "Well, I guess we're on."   
  
"Super!" the manager said. "I'll meet you here on Monday, and we'll be off to Denver." He stood up, reaching over to the cookie plate one more time. There was only one left and Reuben froze, feeling six icy stares. "Well, what the heck? You'd all only fight over it, anyway!" he chided, putting the cookie into his mouth.   
  
"Gluttony is one of the seven deadliest sins, you know," Danny wisecracked.   
  
Reuben chewed his treat. "So's being short, but I don't keep reminding you, do I?"   
  
The others laughed at the redhead's expense as Reuben started for the door. "See you, Monday, gang!"   
  
And with that, the door closed.   
  
*****   
  
The doorbell was ringing, incessantly, as if someone were leaning on it. Shirley rolled over in her bed, having been jarred out of a peaceful sleep that only started…six hours ago? She looked at the clock on the nightstand and the ungodly hour of five a.m. glowed back at her. Sitting up, she pulled her robe on and stumbled to the door. As she stepped out into the hallway, she was joined by Keith, Laurie and Danny, who looked about as wide awake as she was.   
  
"Who could that be? It's Saturday morning!" Laurie whined.   
  
"I don't know, but unless the house is on fire, I'm gonna be mad," Keith muttered through bleary eyes.   
  
"Yeah. You need your beauty sleep," Danny teased.   
  
Keith just pulled a face at him, and they followed Shirley down the stairs as the bell kept chiming.   
  
"Who is it?" Shirley's voice was full of frustration.   
  
"Shirley, it's me, Reuben. Open up!"   
  
She pulled open the door. Sure enough, Reuben stood on the stoop, looking bright eyed and bushy tailed. He had some nerve…   
  
"Reuben, do you know what time it is?" Shirley squeaked as he entered the foyer.   
  
"Yeah, or what day it is?" Danny yawned.   
  
"I'm sorry for the intrusion, but I've got big news that affects all of you." Reuben looked around at the four of them.   
  
Danny suddenly brightened. "We made our first million?"   
  
"We're number one on the charts?" Keith tried.   
  
"No, no, nothing like that. Can I get some coffee? I was all out this morning."   
  
Laurie's eyes widened. "That's your big news?"   
  
"Of course not. I just thought I'd tell you over a cup or two. How about it?"   
  
Shirley indicated the kitchen. "You know where everything is. Can we at least get dressed, or is this informal?"   
  
"Dressed would be good," Reuben mused. "And hair combed…a little makeup…toothpaste wouldn't hurt, either…"   
  
They just glared at him as he made his way into the kitchen, and they all traipsed back up the stairs.   
  
*****   
  
Steaming coffee cups and a glass of milk awaited Shirley, Danny and Laurie as they joined Reuben at the kitchen table, having shaken off a few hours of sleep. Keith, however, hadn't come down yet, and Reuben sipped his brew, almost giddy with breaking news. "Where is he?" The manager wanted to know, looking anxiously at the door.   
  
"You know Keith. He had to take a shower and he's got to get his hair just right, or his day is shot," Laurie smiled, still a little sleepy.   
  
Shirley chuckled. "He is a stickler for fashion, I'll give you that. I've bought him three blow dryers in eight months."   
  
"Well, all he's got is his looks. He's not exactly the brains of this outfit," Danny grinned, taking his milk glass.   
  
"Yeah, well, those looks are what's putting food into your mouth, red, so don't knock it." Reuben's eyes narrowed.   
  
Keith entered, his long mane, shiny and intricately groomed, bouncing on his shoulders. If he heard them talking about him, he didn't mention it. He just pulled out a chair, falling into it. "Okay, Reuben, what's up? Does this have to do with the tour?"   
  
"As a matter of fact, it does. Have you ever heard of Tagalong Productions?" Reuben's eyes scanned each face in turn.  
  
"Sure. They tour with certain acts and film documentaries on them." Keith nodded. Then his jaw dropped, as did the penny in his brain. "Are they doing our tour?"  
  
Reuben's smile was huge. "They're sending a messenger with the contract any second now."   
  
Laurie squealed delightedly, as Keith and Danny 'high-fived' one another. Shirley was the only one who didn't react.   
  
"Mom?" Laurie saw the look on her face.   
  
"What all does this involve? Would it focus on our stage act, or will they want our backstage life as well? How much loss of privacy will we have to endure? I certainly don't want the kids' personal moments recorded for all the world to see," she said adamantly.   
  
"I'll go over the contract with you line by line. If we have to throw in a stipulation that you approve the final production, we will. Don't worry, Shirley. You know I wouldn't do this if it weren't in your best interest."   
  
"Yeah, Mom," Keith's eyes were practically dancing. "This could be just the thing we need. More people watch Greg Novak's documentaries than we could pack in in a year!"   
  
"Just think of the publicity, not to mention the money." Danny leaned toward Reuben. "I trust we will get paid for this."   
  
Reuben sighed. "Yes, yes, your usual fee, plus 50% of the gross, plus, I think they said, $500 a day for each day they shoot."   
  
Shirley looked dumbfounded. "That sounds like a lot of money, Reuben!"   
  
"Oh it is, it is. Enough to send Keith and Laurie to college, and get Danny out of jail to boot."   
  
Danny rolled his eyes at Reuben's little joke as Keith and Laurie laughed. Only Shirley remained unconvinced. She just had this sinking feeling….   



	2. Chapter 2

Reuben hadn't been kidding when he said they'd go over the contract 'line by line.' Shirley was nearly cross-eyed from trying to read all the small print and was a little more than overwhelmed with all the legalese the nine-page document contained. They'd been over the questionable parts five or six times, and although they sounded strange and muddled to her, Reuben assured her that they meant nothing but good for their careers in the long run. 'In the long run.' "What about the short term problems?" she would question, and he would tell her that it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. And so, after seven hours of poring over the documents with nothing short of a fine toothed comb, Shirley signed her name and prayed for guidance. The kids cheered; apparently they weren't too worried about the consequences of this undertaking, and Shirley took their enthusiasm to heart. Reuben folded the papers, tucking them safely in his briefcase. "I'll call Novak's office to have them pick this up and you are on your way to rock   
and roll history." He patted the leather case.   
  
"One more question, Reuben…" Shirley said, wearily  
  
"Yes?" His grip on the attaché tightened. She couldn't back out now; she'd signed it!   
  
"How will they be travelling? We simply cannot fit a film crew in the bus with us; it's just physically impossible."   
  
He let out a breath. "No, they'll have their own bus, although I'm sure once in a while they'll have a camera man ride with you, you know, just to get some film."   
  
"It still sounds like an intrusion," Shirley mused, frowning.   
  
"Of course it is, Mom," Keith bounced down onto the sofa next to her, his face full of excitement. "But that's the whole idea. They're going to show the world just how it is with us on the road. They're gonna want to know everything they can about us. You know, really get inside our heads."   
  
"Well, I don't know about you, but I don't want the world to know everything about me." Shirley shook her head.   
  
"But, Mom, you're a celebrity…you've seen some of the articles written about you; about the group. A lot of them aren't even close to the real you. This way, people will be able to see for themselves just what you're all about." Keith went on. "The camera doesn't lie, Mom."   
  
She looked over at Reuben, even more terrified than she was before. "Can…I see that contract again?"   
  
He drew back. "Not on your life. It's signed, and halfway sealed and delivered. Keith is right, Shirley, the camera doesn't lie, but it also only sees what you let it see."   
  
"What's the matter, Mom?" Laurie grinned. "Got some skeletons in your closet?"   
  
"Of course not…I just don't like the idea of total strangers watching my every move."   
  
"Well, maybe you'll get lucky and they'll think that since you're over thirty, you won't be that interesting and concentrate on us kids," Danny shrugged.   
  
Laurie shot him an 'I can't believe you said that,' look. "Mom, all you have to do is avoid them as much as possible. Make yourself unavailable. You'll be just fine. We're all in this together. Let's just hope Danny doesn't make us look like fools."   
  
"Excuse me?" Danny looked shocked. "How could I do that?"   
  
"By showing up," Keith said simply.   
  
Shirley just shook her head. If these people could just see the Partridges now…they'd take their cameras and run the other way!   
  
*****   
  
Greg Novak's bus was huge; 60 feet long and midnight blue. It took up half the street in front of the Partridge house and made their little bus look like a kiddie car. Impressed, Chris and Danny wandered around the exterior while the director, Novak himself, talked to Shirley and Reuben. Laurie, Keith and Tracy were in the bus getting 'made up' so their faces would show better on camera.   
  
"Willie, my camera man, and I will be riding with you for the first couple of hours, and then we'll let you have some breathing room." Novak was saying. He wasn't much different than what Shirley had expected. He was nearly fifty, but wore his graying hair long. He was dressed in jeans, a tie-dyed T-shirt and sandals. But he was friendly and very enthusiastic about the project, which helped calm her fears. "And any other time you feel like we're intruding, you let me know. The last thing I need is an angry mother." He grinned.   
  
Shirley smiled in return. "I appreciate that."   
  
Danny materialised beside them. "Wow, Mr. Novak, how many people do you have on that bus? I bet you could haul an army!"   
  
"Well, not quite, Danny. There's me, Willie, Joni my assistant, and the driver is all. There's my room in the back of the bus, and several compartments, sort of like a train car. Would you like to see for yourself?"   
  
"Yeah!"   
  
Greg smiled. "Okay, hop aboard, everyone. We won't bother Joni while she's doing the makeup on your sisters and brother, because she's probably using my room."   
  
"Yeah, they could be in there a while. Keith needs a lot of makeup. It takes a lot of stuff to cover that ugly face." Danny grinned at Chris. "This should be good. I'll bet he's got way more on than Laurie."   
  
Chris grinned back, nodding as Shirley grabbed Danny by the collar, pulling him towards the bus's door. "You just let Joni do her work."   
  
"Aw, Mom, we just want one little peek."   
  
"Daniel Partridge, you even go near that room, and I'll…" she scolded, stopping when she saw Greg motion at the cameraman. She winced. This was not going to be easy!   
  
She scooted both boys into the bus, following them inside.   
  
It looked a lot bigger inside than out. There was a small kitchenette, with an eating table and a camping-type stove, and back farther from there was a curtained sleeping area with four bunk beds along each side. And even farther back was what must have been Greg's room, but the door was shut, to Chris and Danny's dismay.   
  
"Wow," Danny looked around him. "Hey, Mom, let's do our bus like this!"   
  
"I'm afraid we'd have to buy a whole new bus, Danny." Shirley told him, quite impressed with what she was seeing.   
  
"Well, with all the money we'll be pulling in from this little venture…" Danny shrugged.   
  
"This bus cost me $300,000." Greg smiled.   
  
Danny swallowed. "Okay, so we keep our bus, but we could put in a drink machine."   
  
"How about if we put the money in the bank for your future?" Shirley put her hand on her son's head.   
  
"Party pooper." He glowered.   
  
The door beyond them opened and Laurie and Tracy stepped out, their skin just a bit more tanned than when they'd gone in.   
  
"Wow, I hope all this washes off…it can't be good for my pores," Laurie wriggled her fingers at her face.   
  
"It's very breathable, you'd be surprised." Greg told her.   
  
"Where's Keith? They run out of stuff to hide his hideous face?" Danny glanced beyond her.   
  
"He and Joni are talking. I think he's taken a liking to her," Laurie sighed. "But then again, why am I surprised? He's a male and she's…"   
  
"Breathing," Danny finished for her. He shook his head. "He have on as much goop as you do?"   
  
"As a matter of fact, he didn't need all that much, the rat. I envy you men. Even your skin is better than ours."   
  
They heard voices behind them and everyone turned to see Keith leading Joni toward them. She was almost as tall as he was, on the thin side, with free styled auburn hair that cascaded just past her shoulders. Her green eyes never left Keith's face as they walked.   
  
"Hey, I thought the whole idea was to make him look BETTER," Danny complained.   
  
"Wait until you get in there. I told her you'd been through the ugly forest twice!" Keith quipped, smiling down at his little brother. To Joni, he said, "Good luck, and …God speed."   
  
Joni cocked her head, studying Danny until he squirmed a little. "Hmm. You're right about that that freckle pattern. It does look like a cactus." She reached out, going to touch Danny's face, but he pulled away.   
  
"Very funny!"   
  
Laurie smiled. "Oh, Keith, you told our little family secret. Too bad you don't have to do his rear end. That pattern is SO much more interesting."   
  
Danny reddened as everyone around him laughed at his expense. "For your information, I don't have freckles back there!" He instinctively reached for his back pocket.   
  
"How do you know? Got eyes in the back of your…head?" Keith pulled a face at him.   
  
"Kids, come on, we're not just us in here. You two go with Joni and get made up. I want to talk to Mr. Novak for a moment," Shirley scolded them, mildly.   
  
Keith, and Laurie stepped out of the bus while Joni escorted a cringing Danny and just-as-reluctant Chris back to the makeup room.   
  
"So, do you have something to tell me, brother?" Laurie nudged Keith with her elbow.   
  
His expression was puzzled. "What are you talking about?"   
  
Laurie's grin widened. "You and Joni seem to have hit if off right away. Can I be safe in assuming that she's on your ever-growing list of conquests?"   
  
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. She's cute, sure, but she's a lot older than I am. She's got a job and everything."   
  
He could tell Laurie was ready to burst, and he shook his head, trying to walk away, but she grabbed his arm.   
  
"You like her, I can tell."   
  
"Well, sure, I like her…"   
  
"No, you REALLY like her."   
  
He stopped, putting a frustrated hand on his hip. "And how can you tell?"   
  
Laurie's eyes were dancing. "You gave her that smile of yours. Where your tongue touches your teeth."   
  
He gaped at her for a minute, then looked flustered. "Oh, please…"   
  
"I'm serious, Keith. I can always tell when you're happy by that smile. I think it's kind of cute!"   
  
Tired of her teasing, he tried to move off, but her next comment stopped him in his tracks.   
  
"She likes you a lot, too."   
  
He peered back at her, trying to be non-chalant. "You think so?"   
  
Laurie nodded, her long hair bouncing. "Oh, definitely. She couldn't take her eyes off you."   
  
He smiled coyly as Shirley, Tracy and Greg stepped outside of the bus.   
  
"Okay, we just need to wait for Reuben and then we can be off. I'm afraid that our bus isn't nearly as luxurious as yours," Shirley said to Greg.   
  
"Oh, hey, that's fine. I'm sure I've seen worse," Greg smiled.   
  
"Hey, Mom, you think it would be okay for me to ride in Greg's bus for a while?" Keith looked hopeful.   
  
"Well, honey, I think Mr. Novak would like us all together to film…"   
  
"Your Mom's right, Keith. I need the whole family. Maybe after our first stop you can. Oh, and by the way, the meals along the way are on me. I'm paying for everything," Greg announced.   
  
"Don't worry, Keith. Joni won't leave town without you." Laurie murmured in his ear.   
  
He shook his head, walking over to their bus ruefully.   
  
  
  
*****   
For the most part of their journey, Keith had seemed distracted and distant, sitting alone in the back of the bus, watching Greg interview his family, one by one.   
  
Laurie had a pretty good idea why he was acting so standoff-ish. Every so often she had made some oblique remark about either the bus which was travelling behind them or its passengers, and she and Danny, whom, of course she filled in at the first opportunity, watched with glee as their brother squirmed uncomfortably, glaring them down. Their teasing hadn't made the tedious ride any more pleasurable, plus there was that interview staring him in the face. He had elected to be filmed last for several reasons; the main one being that he suddenly found himself feeling very self-conscious about talking one on one with someone of Greg Novak's stature. The man had, after all, once interviewed Keith's idol: Jimi Hendrix, not to mention Elton John, the Stones and the Beatles. It was a list that Keith Partridge never dreamed he would make, and one he feared he would never be able to live up to.   
  
His stomach churned as he watched Greg talking to Shirley. She seemed comfortable enough, but chose her words carefully as she told the story of how the group came to be, starting with her husband's death. It was another thing that put Keith on edge; personal stories. His mind was blank! Maybe Greg would just ask him about his songwriting or something to that effect. Laurie was next; and Keith saw that she was conserved and polite, talking about her life in the Partridge household, school and her views on women's Lib. At least, Keith thought, Greg wasn't pressing her for the names of her dates or something! Danny was the most outgoing; regaling Novak with his astute knowledge of the business world and the stock market, even offering the director some stock tips, which Keith saw Greg jot down on a pad after the camera went off. Chris and Tracy were corralled together, answering simple questions, like their favorite games and toys, all of which culminated in Novak joining them in a quick game of tag in the bus' aisle. Then Keith saw Willie starting towards him with the camera and he turned away, feeling the onset of panic.   
  
Greg noticed his panic and decided to put on the old charm. "Okay, Willie, we're pulling out the big guns, now. This will be great," he grinned, waving the camera man around to the other side. "One nice thing is, he's very photogenic, so every side is a good angle."   
  
Keith glanced over at his family. Danny was leaning over the back of his seat, watching with pure unadulterated interest, but hurriedly changed his mind, whipping back around to sit facing forward at Keith's icy stare. Laurie was doing an awful job of not trying to look; Chris and Tracy were busy entertaining themselves with a big pile of coloring books. His eyes moving to Shirley, he relaxed a little when she gave him a big smile and a wink.   
  
"Uh, do you want me to get my guitar?" Keith asked uneasily.   
  
"Sure, if you want to," Greg nodded. "You're the boss here."   
  
Forcing a smile, Keith got up, reaching into the very last seat and grabbing his acoustic guitar. He made his way back past Willie and sat back down, all the while half-hoping Reuben would drive the bus into a ditch or something.   
  
"Okay, that's a good touch. As long as you're comfortable with that, so am I. Here's a list of questions I have for you, so you can prepare an answer. I hate to put my interviewees on a spot. Unless it's about something really juicy," Greg smiled, showing a gold molar as he handed Keith several index cards.   
  
Keith laughed at that, deciding to focus on that lone gold tooth for the course of the interview. It would keep him from drifting. He did it during concerts, too, just picked out something in the audience, like for instance, someone wearing a brightly colored shirt, or he would find a cute girl in the front row. He looked down, his eyes scanning the cards in his hand. Favorite subject at school, steady girlfriends, his musical idols, inspirations for songs, long term plans both for the group and personally…you could do this, he told himself. He looked up. The gold tooth glinted, beckoning him. He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said softly. "Let's do it."   



	3. Chapter 3

Keith was anxious for their first stop, which turned out to be a family diner just outside of Reno. He was glad to have that interview out of the way; Greg had informed him it would be the only time they would be grilled like that; the rest of the filming would be mostly the Partridges in action. Still, the thought of cameras following his every move was beginning to make him a little uneasy. Singing full throttle for an audience was one thing, but to have the cameras see you being yourself was quite another. And wasn't it he who had told Shirley, 'The camera doesn't lie'? He was going to end up eating his own words. At the moment, however, he was more interested in a double cheese burger, fries and a chocolate shake. And Joni, who had joined him, Danny and Laurie in one of the diner's booths. Shirley, Reuben, Willie, Greg, Chris and Tracy were in a larger booth nearby, while the bus driver, to whom Keith had never been formally introduced, took his meal back to the bus.   
  
"You guys swear you heard Greg say he was buying?" Danny and Laurie were sitting across from Keith and Joni.   
  
"Yes; he said the meals were on him," Laurie answered her red headed brother as she glanced over the menu. She looked up at Joni, noticing the other girl's thin frame. "What are you having, Joni?"   
  
"Oh, that depends. I usually get a salad with oil and vinegar, but when Greg's treating, I go for the gusto." Joni answered, smiling.   
  
Laurie shrugged. "Okay, burger and a malt it is."   
  
"Get fries, too, so I can have some," Danny said, eagerly.   
  
"I'll split mine with you," Keith told him.   
  
"You'd better not get any fries. You know what they do to your skin," Laurie smirked.   
  
"Oh, do they break you out?" Joni asked him, to Laurie and Danny's amusement.  
  
Keith shifted uneasily in his seat. "Yeah, sometimes." He flashed a torrid look at his siblings as they did their best to control their glee. He had to talk himself out of strangling the both of them.   
  
"Sometimes? One fry and he looks like he's got the measles," Danny snickered, watching Keith's knuckles whiten on the menu that partially hid his face.   
  
"I'll give you a cleanser that will take care of that problem," Joni said, condescendingly patting Keith's hand. She reached down for her purse. "I need to freshen up, excuse me. Be a dear and order me a cheeseburger and a Coke."   
  
He nodded and she moved off. Laurie and Danny waited until she was out of sight before they broke into peals of hysterical laughter. Keith slammed his menu down onto the table, fury in his eyes.   
  
"Knock off the put-downs, will you!" he hissed at them.   
  
Laurie tried to hold back the giggles. "What? It's the truth. You do break out after eating something greasy."   
  
"Yeah, but SHE doesn't need to know that!" Keith snapped.   
  
"Why not? Afraid she'll spill the beans to Greg, and it'll make it into the documentary?" Danny leaned forward, teasing Keith for all he was worth. "I can see the teaser now. 'What makes Keith Partridge break out?' It's not exactly breaking news, Keith."   
  
"No, but your murder will be. Now, both of you cut it out, or go sit somewhere else." Keith growled.   
  
Laurie laughed, shouldering her purse. "Okay, we're sorry…I think I'll freshen up, too." She stood up.   
  
"You're already fresh enough for me," Keith muttered as she tousled his hair and moved off.   
  
The ladies room was just around the corner, and Laurie pushed the door open, getting quite a surprise as she did so. Joni stood at the huge mirror, a syringe in her hand. She jumped when she saw Laurie in the reflection. Laurie was stunned at first as Joni gasped. "Oh, you scared me!"   
  
"What…what are you doing?" Laurie murmured, staring at the needle. The syringe was empty, indicating that Laurie had caught her after the fact.   
  
Joni's eyes followed Laurie's to the needle in her hand. "Oh, this? It's insulin, Laurie. I'm a diabetic. Didn't Greg tell you?"   
  
Laurie's gaze moved to Joni's face. There was no reason to disbelieve her. "No, no he didn't. I just -"   
  
Joni smiled. "Don't worry about it. I have to explain all the time. When you have the job that I have, people just assume. I get all the comments: 'No wonder you're so thin'; 'ever shoot up with a big rock star?' It's never ending."   
  
Laurie nodded. "Yes, I can just imagine." She smiled, then. "But just between you and me, how DO you stay so thin, on a diet of burgers and Cokes?"   
  
Joni laughed. "Just between you and me, Greg doesn't offer to treat all that often!"   
  
Laurie joined in the laughter.   
  
*******  
  
It was dark by the time they reached Salt Lake City, and everyone was either starving or sleepy, so they pulled into a Holiday Inn just off the freeway. The hotel was near the airport, and they could hear the planes engines roaring above their heads. Danny and Laurie stepped tiredly off the bus, their suitcases in hand, watching the glaring lights of the air traffic and feeling the desert heat. Keith had finally gotten permission from his mother to ride in Greg's bus, and they couldn't wait to start teasing him again. As they saw Greg, Joni, Willie and Keith exiting the bus parked behind them, Laurie nudged Danny, nodding toward them. Joni was literally hanging on their brother, and it was obvious he was enjoying it immensely. "Oh, that is just sickening, that's what that is," Laurie murmured to Danny. "Look at her, all over him like that."   
  
"I wouldn't mind it, myself," Danny retorted. "But you're right. It's a pretty gross sight, it being as it's Keith."   
  
"Keith, we need some help with the luggage." The tone of Shirley's voice told Laurie and Danny that she was none too pleased with this public display of affection.   
  
Laughing at something Joni'd apparently said, Keith looked up. "Okay, Mom." He had his arm around Joni's waist and her arms were entangled about him. "Meet you in the lobby in an hour, okay?" he said to her.   
  
"I'll be there," Joni smiled, her hand grabbing his as he moved away. She tucked her hair behind one ear as Greg stepped up to her.   
  
"Ease off on the kid, Joni. His mother's getting peeved." Greg set a bag at her feet.   
  
"Just having a little fun," Joni said, avoiding his eyes.   
  
"Yeah, well, I don't need the wrath of Shirley Partridge coming down on me. Watch your step, okay?"   
  
Joni sighed, reaching for the bag. "Sure thing, BOSS." She gave him a military salute and headed for the front door.   
  
Greg shook his head as Willie approached. "She's at it again, huh?" Willie shouldered a bag.   
  
"Yeah, but this one's jail bait. And his mother's on the prowl."   
  
The two men followed Joni into the hotel.   
  
*****  
Danny lay on his stomach across the bed, watching his brother intently as Keith rummaged through his suitcase, looking for who knew what. He seemed anxious about something, but Danny hadn't pressed the issue. He knew Keith wouldn't tell him, anyway. The two of them were sharing a room; Chris and Reuben were next door, and Shirley, Laurie and Tracy were across the hall in a two bedroom suite. Greg's entourage was a floor below. The accommodation was particularly nice - partly because the hotel was very busy with air travellers and all they had had available were Executive suites. The entire family was very impressed with the unaccustomed luxury. Reuben was a little more blase. He had seen it all before and stayed in better hotels. Still, it made a pleasant change from their usual accommodations.   
  
In their shared room, Keith muttered something under his breath and grabbed his blow dryer and a change of clothes, starting for the bathroom. Danny looked up.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Taking a shower, nosy Nate." Keith answered.  
  
Danny looked over at the clock. "It's ten thirty. You forgot your pajamas."  
  
His brother's head came back out around the corner. "I'm not going to bed," he sing-songed.  
  
Danny crawled to his knees on the bed. This was news! "Where are you going?"  
  
"Sightseeing with Joni."  
  
The redhead folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "At ten thirty at night. In Salt Lake City. Even the seagulls are in bed, Keith."  
  
"Then we'll go for a walk. Who cares? We're clicking, you know?" Keith said from the other room.  
  
So I heard. Danny thought. "Have you asked Mom?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Because you know she won't let you, right?"  
  
Keith said something else, but Danny didn't hear him because Keith was closing the door as he spoke. It was probably for the best, anyway....  
  
The phone started ringing, breaking Danny out of his contemplation, and he frowned, grabbing the receiver. "Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Danny? It's Joni. I need to talk to Keith."  
  
Danny's frown deepened "He's in the shower."  
  
"Oh. Okay, well, I guess I can tell him when I see him."  
  
"Tell him what?"  
  
She laughed. "Just have him meet me in the lobby in half an hour, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Danny mumbled, hanging up. He had to find out what was going on. Maybe he could follow the two of them…no, that wouldn't do. He would just end up getting caught and be big trouble with everyone.  
  
There was a knock on the door, and he stomped over to answer it. He felt like a butler or something!  
When he swung it open he found Laurie standing in the corridor outside the room.  
  
"Oh, good, you're not asleep. Everybody's kind of hungry, and we voted to go downstairs to the café. You and Keith want to come?"  
  
"I'm game, but loverboy's got other plans." Danny nodded his head toward the bathroom door.  
  
Laurie looked interested. "Oh, really? Like what?"  
  
"Like going out with Joni…sightseeing, he said."  
  
She cocked her head. "Sightseeing what? Everything's closed!"  
  
Danny shrugged. "That's what I said. I asked him if he asked Mom and he said, no."  
  
Laurie grinned. "Well, of course not. He doesn't want to get shot down in front of his woman. Oh, Danny, this should be good. I'll go get Mom, you wait for Casanova to come out of the shower."  
  
*****  
  
Keith was humming to himself as he wiped his wet head with a towel. Another towel was wrapped around his slim waistline, and the chain around his neck glinted with water droplets. "Hey, Danny, hand me my comb," Keith called out, pulling the door open. He was startled to find Shirley there and he took a step backwards into the still steamy room, swallowing hard. "Mom!"  
  
"Hi," Shirley said gaily. "Getting ready for bed?"  
  
Keith's eyes shot around the room. No Danny. He'd snitched on him, the little runt! "Uh…well, not quite…"  
  
Shirley smiled sweetly and folded her arms. "What do you mean?" Her voice was neutral, but he knew both the expression on her face and the tone in her voice of old.   
  
There was no sense in lying to her. She obviously already knew, anyway. That Danny was going to get it! "Joni and I were…going out. Side. For a while." He stammered.  
  
"I see. What did you plan on seeing? We're in an industrial part of town, looks like to me."  
  
Keith closed his eyes. "I don't know, Mom. She just wanted to goof around. She said maybe there was a party we could crash or something." There was that look again, and it was making him uncomfortable as all get out. The silence was just too much. "She's okay, Mom. Greg wouldn't have hired a flake or anything."  
  
Shirley sighed. "You're right. Reuben and I have been talking. We can see you're both very attracted to each other. But, Keith, she's a bit older than you are, and she's…"  
  
"Been around?" Keith completed the sentence. "That's what makes her so exciting, Mom. We've been in show business, how long, and I have never run into anyone quite like her. She's rubbed elbows with the big names, and so has Greg. He's a super cool guy. I just want to be a part of their world…even if it's just for a little while."  
  
His words were eating at Shirley, syllable by syllable. She knew how badly Keith was wanting this; she could read it in his eyes. And who was she to stifle a dream? He would be all right; she'd brought him up with all the right values, and he hadn't disappointed her thus far. And she knew if she said no to him right now, it would drive a wedge, however temporary, between them.  
  
"Okay, have fun, but be careful." She almost winced as she heard herself uttering the words.  
  
Surprised at her permission, he grinned as he heard cries of protest from the hallway.  
  
"You're letting him go?" Laurie seemed horrified as she and Danny rounded the corner.  
  
Shirley's eyes glistened as she nodded slowly. "Yes. On the condition that he stay in…THIS condition. You know the rules. No drinking, no drugs…I don't care if Elvis himself offers them to you."  
  
Keith grinned. "You have my word."  
  
"And no sex," Danny added.  
  
His comment brought all their attention.  
  
"Danny!" Laurie squeaked.  
  
"Just seeing if you were paying attention." The redhead smirked.  
  
Keith whipped him with his towel.  



	4. Chapter 4

Keith's head was in a cloud. Joni had discovered that a few rock bands were just passing through town and had arranged for her, Willie, Greg and Keith to crash a party in a hotel nearby. It was amazing to be surrounded by the bands and their groupies; not that Keith would ever have thought to be as brazen as these guys were. He'd learned early on that women deserved respect; that had been drilled into him by not only his mother, but his sister as well. Laurie would be having a convulsive fit if she could see what he saw. He stayed by Joni's side most of the night as she introduced him around, and he was thrilled when most of the hard rockers he met complimented him on his songwriting, his voice, his guitar playing, what-have-you. Keith Partridge was pretty well-known in these circles, he decided, and it tickled him pink to have these 'veterans' of rock tell him they thought he was good; damn good.   
  
"Thirsty, Keith?" Joni nodded toward the bar at the end of the room.   
  
"Yeah, sure…I could go for something cold."   
  
"What'll it be? My treat."   
  
"Uh…" Keith hesitated, looking around. He wanted to say gin or scotch on the rocks, but Shirley's words were stuck in overdrive inside his head. "I'd better stick with 7-Up," he said a little sheepishly. "On the rocks."   
  
She smiled, her hand sweeping his hair off his shoulder. "I'll be right back." She moved off, leaving him for the moment and joining Willie who stood at the bar with a bottle of beer in his hand. "One beer, one 7-Up on ice," she said to the bartender.   
  
Willie grinned. "I take it the soft drink's for the kid."   
  
"Yeah. He was primed before we left. Too bad…wouldn't he make a cute drunk?" She looked back at Keith who watched the action around him with out and out awe.   
  
"Greg'd kill you."   
  
"The kid needs some reality, Willie. I'll bet he's never even tasted beer. He wouldn't even know what a little vodka tasted like, now would he?"   
  
"Joni…" Willie's voice exuded warning.   
  
She ignored him, turning back to the bartender, who was just serving the drinks. "Could I get just a splash of vodka in that 7-Up?"   
  
As the bartender got the bottle from under the counter, Joni's eyes once again found Keith in the crowd. That young gorgeous creature was a fine specimen, indeed!   
  
*****   
  
If Keith's head was in a cloud before, it was in a torrential rainstorm, now. Joni had plied him with several, sort of funny tasting 7-Ups, and when he'd questioned the first one, she said it was the water. They bottled the drink locally, and with all the minerals in the water, it would affect the taste just a bit. He was skeptical, but drank it anyway. It had a strange taste to it at first, but as time went on, he began to like it more and more, and Joni had been more than obliging, buying them as fast as he was downing them. But now, his world seemed a little unsteady. It was almost as if he'd stepped into a dream. He would reach for things, but they would blur and waver. The world seemed to have slowed down and the buzzing of voices around him was giving him a headache.  
  
Joni could see that he was out of it, now. His goofy grin was wavering as he became more and more disoriented. And if Greg saw him in this condition, he would be furious. She took Keith's arm and guided him to the door. "Come on, little one…you need to go sleep this off."   
  
"Where are we going?" Keith looked right through her, his eyes bloodshot.   
  
"To our bus. You can relax; lie down…" She took the empty glass from his hand and sat it on the nearest table.   
  
He shook his head, regretting it instantly as the room spun sickeningly on its axis. "I think I need to throw up…" he mumbled, wincing as his hands went instinctively to his belly.   
  
She pulled him quickly out the door as Willie followed. Once out on the street, Keith wrenched away from her and stumbled for the bushes that lined the wide sidewalk. On his knees, he cast his stomach contents into the shrubbery as Willie glared at Joni. "How are you gonna explain this to Greg? And to his mother? If he sleeps it off, he won't get back to his room until daybreak, and then he's gonna have one hell of a hangover."   
  
"I'll sober him up okay," Joni told him. "Relax, Will. Like you've never taken a young, naïve wood nymph and turned her into a woman over night."   
  
"Not a client, I haven't!" Willie snarled. "This kid is white bread and cream cheese, Joni. A teen idol. You know what's gonna happen if the press gets hold of this? We could lose everything."   
  
Joni sighed. "You're beginning to sound like Greg. Now cut the morality speech and help me get him to the bus."   
  
Shaking his head, Willie reached down and brought Keith to his feet.   
  
*****   
  
Keith was practically unconscious by the time they got him into the bus. Head lolling, and his body a dead weight, he seemed totally out of it. A pathetic little moan emerged from him every now and again, assuring Willie that Joni hadn't out and out killed the guy, but as he eased him down into the soft cushions at the back of the vehicle, he eyed him critically. "He doesn't look so good," he observed.  
  
"Neither would you if you'd just had your first drink … or few!" Joni snorted with laughter at her own joke then turned to scrutinise Keith herself. He looked so cute, all spread out on the cushions like that. Like a little dormouse. He was just so perfect. And she knew something that would only add to his perfection, and create a 'perfect' bond between them as well. When she turned back to Willie, she realised he was surveying her suspiciously and frowned. This wouldn't go well if he was going to stand here on guard like some overprotective cop or something. "He'll be fine," she assured him. "Just needs to sleep it off. I'll stay here with him - make sure he's okay; doesn't throw up again or anything. You go back to the party."  
  
"Are you sure?" he asked, dubious about leaving Joni here with the kid. Her antics had already gotten them in deep enough and he didn't want to risk any more trouble.  
  
"Yeah, man," she was all but physically pushing him out of the bus by this time. "I'm sure. I promise to be a good little girl and look after him. OK?"  
  
"OK. You promise?"  
  
"Sure. I promise."  
  
As Willie left, she heaved a huge sigh of relief then, stepping back into the bus, she once again eyed her little dormouse, who was slowly curling up amongst the cushions, looking even more adorable. "Don't you worry, little one," she whispered as she stepped over him to retrieve her bag. "I'm gonna give you a night you'll never forget!"  
  
*****  
  
Keith slowly opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy; his head was pounding, the room was spinning and he felt sick. He also felt strangely disconnected - like he wasn't part of reality any more and he was floating away from it. The more he tried to grab onto something real and solid, the less tangible it became. With a great deal of effort he brought his left hand upward toward his face, touching his cheek with his fingers, just to make sure that he could still feel. Everything tingled and there was a strange sensation of pins and needles, then he felt a sharp pain in his right arm, just within the elbow joint and cried out, gazing down to find a blurry shape crouched beside him, his arm resting on something soft and silky. "J .. Joni?" his words sounded thick and slurred, like his tongue, which felt like something had been growing on it.  
  
"Shh, it's okay, baby," she crooned. "Just helping you out here."  
  
"Wh .. wha …?" Then sudden clarity hit him like a tidal wave as he watched her withdraw a needle from his arm. "Oh god!" he exclaimed. !"Joni! Wh … what have you done ???"  
  
"Just a little something to help you, baby," she whispered, soothingly. She moved closer toward him, tenderly stroking his face and brushing her hands through his hair. "Don't fight it. Let it come to you. I'll be here with you. I promise …"  
  
"No!" he protested, even as the drug surged through his system, coursing through his blood and into his brain. "No …. " The second protest was much less vehement, as he closed his eyes, convulsing once as the heroin started to overcome his body, his words, his will. "No …. "  
  
Opening his eyes again seemed to take longer this time. A strange lethargy was creeping through him, coupled with an odd warmth which seemed to sear his skin. His mouth felt dry and he gagged as nausea almost overwhelmed him. Fighting to retain a hold on his stomach contents kept his mind off the other strange sensations for a few moments, but eventually, he became aware of them again. He felt flushed and sleepy and his legs and arms felt heavy and wooden. He knew, intellectually, that this should worry him, and he tried to lift his right hand to ensure that it was still connected to his body but nothing happened and he couldn't seem to care enough to repeat the exercise.   
  
"How're you doin', baby?" Joni's voice seemed to come from far away and echoed peculiarly in his ears. He couldn't seem to summon up the energy to respond, but giggled inanely. This seemed to please her as she bent over him, her hair softly brushing his face. He longed to touch it, draw his hands through its soft silkiness, but his limbs remained leaden and he simply shrugged helplessly, giggling again. His body was responsive to her touch, however, and he could feel her hands skimming across his bare chest - bare? When had he removed his shirt? - tracing a path over his abdomen, then venturing further down. He heard her sigh contentedly and then there was the sound of a belt buckle being unfastened; a zip and he felt mild concern at what was happening. He tried to protest, but his mind was woolly and again that feeling of apathy spread through him. So, passively, he lay there whilst she slowly spread her hands over him, making him feel wonderful. Little sounds mewled from his lips and she crooned to him as he responded to her touch despite himself. Her lips came down on his and she kissed him deeply, fully, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. He suckled on it for a moment, draining the moisture from it - his mouth was so dry and hot - and then it was removed and he was starting to see stars dancing around her head … then suddenly her weight was gone from his body and he heard shouting. He couldn't make out the words, though, didn't really care what they were saying. All he knew was the feeling of euphoria which was rushing through him, the sudden loss of her touch being replaced by a feeling of such wellbeing that he didn't care who he was, where he was or what was happening outside.  
  
Eventually, he fell into a deep sleep, buoyed by the feelings of elation he was experiencing, and which he knew, deep down, were alien and wrong.  
  
Meanwhile, Joni was facing off with Willie, who had returned to the bus, worried about what was happening with Keith. He had been horrified when he had discovered her trying to seduce the young singer. The teen idol's clothes were scattered around the cushions, and he was lying unresponsively beneath the young woman. "What the hell are you doing?" he had exclaimed.  
  
Joni had been startled. She had thought Willie long gone by now and had not figured on any interruptions. He had only seen her trying to deflower the luscious piece of flesh, however. Had he witnessed her giving the young singer a shot he would have been truly outraged. She could get out of this easily enough. "Aw, c'mon, Willie," she whispered, softly, seductively, "I had to try, y'know?"  
  
"Why?" demanded the older man. "Why him? Why do you do this?"  
  
"Why?" She sounded incredulous. "Willie, take a good look at him - a REAL good look. He's gorgeous! And innocent - despite the childish rumours which go around about him. That's all they are - rumours. Sure, he likes the girls but he'd never actually go too far with any of 'em - dear old mom's ingrained that into him. I thought I'd show him a good time. Show him what a real woman's like. I wanted to be his first!"  
  
Willie stared at her dumbfounded. "I can't believe you!" he exclaimed. "You're a real piece of work, Joni."  
  
"Why, thank you!" she responded, winking coquettishly at him.  
  
"That wasn't a compliment!" he snapped back.  
  
She pouted prettily. "Aw, Willie, c'mon. I was just havin' a little bit of fun. Look, if I promise not to touch him again, would you just leave us alone?"  
  
Again he simply stared at her. "You have got to be kidding!"  
  
"Look, he's asleep now," she pointed out, drawing his attention back to the stoned young singer, who did indeed seem lost in slumber. "I'm not gonna wake him up now."  
  
Willie was torn. On the one hand he wanted to get back to the party - he had struck up an interesting conversation with one of the band members which he dearly wanted to continue - all in the interests of his future career. On the other, he didn't trust Joni as far as he could throw her. Whilst young Keith Partridge did indeed seem to be deeply asleep, what was to stop her from waking him up and trying to seduce him again? He knew that he wouldn't be able to face Greg or the kid's mother if he let anything happen to him. He might be 17 years old, but he was still only a child, and to his mother, obviously a very special child. It was already enough that somehow Joni had gotten him drunk. But slowly, as she worked on him, she lessened his resolve - he had always been susceptible to her undoubted charms - and before long he was agreeing to her request to leave, but not without a final warning to her to leave the kid alone.   
  
As Willie left, Joni heaved a huge sigh of relief and wandered slowly over to the cushions where her prey awaited her. There she stared at him for a moment or two before reaching into her bag and retrieving her kit. Then, she proceeded to give herself the fix she needed.  



	5. Chapter 5

Keith was barely awake again when he felt the sting of the needle in his arm - the same place as he had previously felt it. His mind yelled out a fuzzy protest but as the euphoria swept over him, stilling all objections and pulsing through his blood, he subsided, lost in the giddiness and relaxation it provoked. He felt like he was sinking into the softness beneath him, and yet he was floating above his body, all at the same time. His mind seemed to be disconnected from his body - which at first worried him, until he discovered that he couldn't be bothered enough to care. So he just let it all happen, laughing delightedly at the strange shapes which were pressing in on him, the odd sensations which were assaulting him and the sounds which were echoing in his ears. Sounds which he didn't recognise, uttered in a familiar, sibilant voice.  
  
Drifting lazily, he allowed himself to float on a tide of soft fluffiness, feeling sheltered and warm. Reality seemed far away and unimportant. All he knew, all it seemed he had ever known was this lassitude. He wanted to stay here forever.  
  
Joni grinned as she withdrew the needle from Keith's arm for a second time. The wound bled a bit but soon diminished to a trickle as she dabbed at it with a tissue. He was grinning stupidly and singing to himself, although his words were incomprehensible. He was cuter than ever this way. She softly stroked his bare skin, pausing as she reached his navel. He moved slightly, thrusting himself into her touch and a predatory gleam entered her eyes. She was unaware that not only were the two of them being observed but that their watcher was also taking photographs. His camera clicked away silently as the tableau in front of him played itself out to its inevitable conclusion and as Joni moved away from the singer, the shutter clicked ever more furiously.  
  
Greg yawned copiously. Sometimes he hated these parties. Oh sure, they were useful for contacts for later jobs, but the schmoozing he had to do was just tiresome. All he wanted to do now was sleep. He glanced at his watch and then at the sky. Dawn. Well, time for a little shut-eye before they had to commence their current assignment with the Partridge Family. They were nice kids, he reflected, with a great mom who didn't seem to have to come down too heavily on them. Obviously they had been well brought up and had had a lot of care and attention lavished on them with just the right amount of discipline. Despite the odd quirks of one or two of them - that Danny was a real piece of work! Maybe he should ask the kid for stock tips! - they were, to a fault, polite, well-mannered and obviously thought very highly of their mom and each other, despite the teasing he had witnessed. This one was going to be a nice, easy assignment.  
  
He had cause to rue these thoughts when he entered the bus. At the back of the vehicle lay Joni, asleep and, beside her, covered only with a patterned coverlet, the young singer from The Partridge Family. Greg felt his blood boil. He had no doubt as to whom had incited this little scene, nor what had happened. He had warned Joni the last time that any more of this and she would be out. It looked like she hadn't taken his threat seriously. And to do this to the Partridge kid of all people - his mother would sue them for everything they had! For this he would lose it all. Fuming, he strode to the back of the bus and shook her awake.   
  
"Joni! Joni!"  
  
Blearily, she opened her eyes and focussed on the man standing over her. Then awareness crept back and she shot upwards. The anger in his face frightened her. He had warned her last time that one more mistake and she was history - and now it looked like the threat was going to come to fruition. Damn! She had meant to get the kid out of here before anyone came back. Willie was a good guy - he wouldn't have split on her, but obviously Greg had come back early and now she was in big trouble. "Uh … " she managed. "Greg!"  
  
"Yeah!" he snarled back. "Greg! What the hell have you done, Joni?! I warned you last time! This time you've really done it! Do you know what his mother is going to do to us if she finds out about this? Do you?"  
  
She tried for innocence. "Well, she doesn't have to find out, does she? I mean, we just get him back into his little bed in the hotel, no harm, no foul."  
  
He stared at her a moment more, common sense and justice weighted against his entire career. Then he relented. She was still out on her ear but she might as well help him cover up any evidence before he told her that. "Okay," he said. "Get him awake and dressed and let's make sure he gets back into the hotel before his mother notices he's missing. Obviously she hasn't already otherwise we'd have the police swarming all over the place."  
  
She looked relieved. "Okay," she agreed. Leaning over, she attempted to wake the young singer, but he was lax and unresponsive. His face was a ghostly white and he mumbled incoherently. Again she tried to wake him, shaking him violently, to no avail. "Um .. Greg," she whispered. "I think we might have a problem."  
  
"What is it?" He had returned to the back of the bus and now peered down at the unconscious teenager with concern. "What's wrong with him? What did you …. " Dawning realisation turned his face as pale a shade as Keith's. "Oh god, you didn't! Tell me you didn't!" Crouching beside the young singer, he turned over his right arm and stared at the two needletrack marks in complete and total horror. "Oh crap, Joni, you've killed him!"  
  
"No," she said, breathlessly, feeling for the pulse in Keith's neck. It was beating strong and steady, if a little too slow. "I think he's just out of it is all."  
  
"Two shots?" he demanded, studying the marks. "Why in the name of all that's holy did you have to do this? Why? What's this kid ever done to you?"  
"I thought it might loosen him up," she faltered. "I just wanted .."  
  
"I know what you wanted!" His voice was vicious, flaying her alive with its venom. "You stupid bitch! You could have killed him! As it is, he's gonna have to come out of this the other side and we both know what he's gonna go through to get there."  
  
"It was only two shots, Greg, and it wasn't like they were even full doses," she said, haltingly. "It's not like he's been on the stuff for months!"  
  
"No, not like some I could mention," he snarled. "Get your stuff, Joni - all of it. Get it and get out of here. I don't want to see your face ever again. And don't think I'm not gonna tell Mrs Partridge just what you've done to her boy. You'll be lucky not to be arrested and sent down!"  
  
Joni could only stare at him in a daze as he pulled the insensible Keith to his feet, wrestling the boy into his clothes and dragging him out of the bus.  
  
*****  
  
Reuben was just emerging from the hotel into the cold grey light of the morning when he saw Greg half-carrying an unconscious Keith out of the bus. Cold fear struck his heart with a piercing blow as he ran towards the two. "Keith! Keith!"   
  
Greg looked up. Of all the people to have witnessed this - it had to be the manager! He groaned. He had met Reuben Kincaid when the guy had come to his office to negotiate the contract. The man was no fool. He was also no ordinary manager. The Partridge Family weren't just another 'act' to him. They were more like his family. It was not so much what he had said about them then the way he had spoken of them, individually, as people, outlining their talents, laughing over their escapades, recalling his time with them with a fondness which bordered on familial. And now he was running toward Greg and Keith with a look of complete and utter panic on his face, panic born out of love, not mere professional concerns.  
  
"Reuben … " Greg began.  
  
"What happened?" Reuben demanded frantically. "What happened to him? Keith?" The blond haired manager lifted Keith's head up to stare into his pallid face, even more disturbed once he saw for himself the comatose state of his young charge. He glared at Greg. "What have you done to him!?"  
  
Novak shook his head. "Can we discuss this inside?" he suggested, dryly. "I don't think it's a good idea to have this out on the street where everyone can see us?"  
  
Reuben suddenly seemed to realise that they were out in the open and anyone could se them - including any nosy photographers who might be lurking nearby. His protective instincts took over. "Right," he agreed, and, pausing only long enough to throw Keith's right arm over his shoulder and grab the young singer around the waist, he led the way inside.  
  
"Where …?" Greg asked as they reached the elevator.  
  
"Upstairs. My suite. He's sharing a room with Danny - we can't put him in there."  
  
Greg frowned. "But aren't you sharing with the younger boy - Chris?" he asked.  
  
Reuben nodded curtly. "Yeah," he said. "But he and Danny were playing monopoly in Danny's room earlier and he crashed in there. Shirley didn't want to wake him so I offered to let Keith share with me for the night. I was waiting up for him - guess I fell asleep waiting, otherwise …" He left the threat unspoken, but his expression spoke eloquently enough.   
  
Greg tightened his lips and nodded. "Right."  
  
Together they manoeuvered Keith into the elevatorand Greg pressed the button for the 7th floor. They were at their destination in seconds. Luckily, it was still early enough that no one else was up and around. As they reached Reuben's room, he dug in his pocket and retrieved his key. He was just about to put it in the lock when there was a distressed voice from behind them.  
  
"Keith! Reuben! What's wrong with him?"  
  
"Shirley!" He turned, trying to smile at her reassuringly. But she was in full 'mother' mode and practically ignored him in favour of her son, for whom she reached, feeling his forehead and jumping back in fear at the heat emanating from his ashen face. What's wrong with him?" she demanded again, fearfully. "Reuben …?"  
  
Quickly, Reuben regained his equilibrium. "Let's just get inside, Shirley, and we'll get some explanations from Mr Novak here once we get Keith settled."  
  
Shirley acquiesed to Reuben's suggestion, but as the manager unlocked his door and helped Greg inside with her son, she turned a look of such ferocious anger on Novak that it sent a shudder down his spine. This was one mom who could give lionesses lessons in protecting their cubs.  
  
"All right. I want an explanation. And I want it now. What's wrong with Keith and how did he get in this condition?"   
  
Shirley's voice was cold. It was so cold that Reuben felt the urge to turn up the heating in the room just to thaw it out. However, he too wanted an explanation and the look he himself turned on Novak was far from warm and friendly.  
  
Ambushed by the two adults who cared most about the boy, Greg felt overwhelmed - and furious at Joni for not only putting him in this position, but of condemning the boy's mother to her worst nightmare and Keith himself to the agony of withdrawal from heroin. Belatedly, he remembered that he had overheard Willie mentioning to someone that Joni was trying to get the kid drunk and he groaned inwardly. Alcohol and drugs did not mix well. He only hoped she had had been telling him the truth about not giving the kid a full shot - either time. Otherwise they could be looking at manslaughter charges - and this poor mother would be planning a funeral, not a concert tour.  
  
"Well?" Shirley's voice was querulous, strident, something no-one usually associated with the soft-spoken mother of five. But one of her brood was in serious trouble and she was facing the person she held responsible for his predicament.  
  
Greg took a deep breath. "Well," he began. "I'm sorry to have to tell you … look, maybe you better sit down. This is going to be hard."  
"Hard?" Shirley swallowed. What was this man going to tell her? She glanced over at Keith, who lay motionless on the bed, looking so small and frail and young. "Oh god, Mr Novak, just tell us! What's wrong with him! Please!"  
  
Her fear filled the room and it made it even harder, but slowly, haltingly, Greg related to them everything he had found out that morning. As he recounted the circumstances in which he had found Keith and Joni (leaving out for the moment the fact that she had seduced the young singer - he didn't think it was time for his mom to know that just yet), and the conversation he had overheard at the party, Shirley turned paler and paler until she was almost as white as the sheets on which her son lay. She didn't even wait for Novak to finish, but instead, practically ran over to the bed, staring down speechlessly at Keith for a long moment. Then, with a sob, she sank onto the mattress and slowly lifted her son into her arms. His head fell limply onto her shoulder and she stroked the gleaming dark hair with a desperate tenderness, crying helplessly.   
  
Novak could only stare remorsefully at Reuben, who regarded him as though he had just crawled out from under a gutter somewhere. "I'm sorry," he said, in a low voice. "I never thought Joni would … I mean, I warned her last time … she …" his words tailed off into an embarrassed silence as the Partridge Family manager simply stared at him as though willing him to disappear.  
  
Then a cold flash of anger lit Reuben's eyes and he exploded. "You mean to tell me that you let a known addict, someone who's 'done this before' get near Keith!!? You let that kid - that innocent young kid near someone who's on drugs, who has a reputation for doing something like this??! Why, I oughta … I oughta …."  
  
"Reuben!" Shirley's voice was possibly the only thing which could have prevented Reuben from committing murder in that very room at that moment. He stopped mid-tirade and turned to her, his face softening as he took in the scene before him.  
  
"Shirley …" he began, but she cut him off, turning to face him as she carefully lowered her son back to the bed, keeping one hand on his face - hoping he might recognise the touch and know that she was there.  
  
"I think he's waking up," she said, her attention once more focussed fully on her firstborn, completely dismissing everyone else from her thoughts as Keith mumbled something and his head tossed to and fro.  
  
Reuben made it to the bed in three strides. His attention too was totally focussed on Keith, his brow furrowed in concern as he watched the boy toss and turn. Novak was left to his own devices, but simply couldn't seem to leave. He felt responsible for what had happened - indeed, ultimately, as Joni's boss, he was responsible - but he had never foreseen these consequences. Never had an inkling that Keith would end up like this. Had he even had a suspicion of what was going to occur then he would have done everything in his power to prevent it. For now, however, he was unable to move, instead transfixed by what was happening at the other end of the room.  
  
Keith moaned as he began to climb toward consciousness. Everything ached and he felt sick. He was also having trouble breathing as his lungs refused to take in sufficient oxygen and he whimpered pitifully as he drew each painful breath.  
  
"Keith?" The voice seemed to be coming from a long way away and it was echoing inside his mind. He felt unconnected somehow, like everything was in the wrong place; his thoughts seemed to be drifting aimlessly and to make matters worse, the pain in his stomach was worsening. "Keith? Honey?" He frowned. He recognised this voice. It was as familiar to him as his own. But he couldn't place it. His mind refused to connect the dots and he felt a moment of panic. Then, slowly, so slowly that he almost screamed in frustration, he realised who it was. Mom. Mom was here. She would make it all go away. The pain, the aching, the sickness, everything. Just like she had when he had had the flu - she had nursed him back to health, comforting him when he felt feverish, holding him when he felt sick, cooling him down, feeding him hot soup to warm his poor abused stomach … but where was she? He could hear her voice but he couldn't see her. And what was she going to think of him when she found out what had happened? He couldn't tell her. He remembered it all now. He remembered the strange sense of disconnection at the party; throwing up into the bushes outside, then the weird sensations back at the bus … Joni! Joni had - oh god, she had injected him with something! It had to have been a drug! And Mom was so dead set against drugs. Had instilled it into her kids never to mess around with them. She would be so angry with him - maybe she would disown him and he'd have to move away - like Fraser Kennedy who'd lived down the street when he'd become a crackhead. He'd been sent away - and they'd never seen him again. His mom had refused to even discuss him, like she'd emptied every memory of him from her life, like he'd never existed. Oh god, would that happen to him? Would his mom be so angry, so disappointed in him that she'd send him away, forget about him, never speak of him again? He couldn't do that to her! Maybe if he stayed asleep and pretended he hadn't heard her voice he wouldn't have to face the inevitable … but the plea came again, "Keith? Sweetheart? Please wake up. I'm here. Keith?" He couldn't ignore it. He couldn't ignore his mother and he couldn't bear to see the look in her eyes when she discovered just what he had done. Oh god … He whimpered again, this time in emotional distress and, as if of their own accord, his eyes slowly opened onto the world and he stared blearily into his mother's face. And then he lost it.  
  
"Mom?" He sounded so broken, Shirley reflected sorrowfully as her desperate entreaties to him were rewarded and he finally opened eyes dulled with pain and misery.  
  
"I'm here, sweetheart," she said, stroking his face tenderly, taking his right hand into her own and squeezing it to reassure him. "It's going to be all right, Keith. Greg has told us everything."  
  
He frowned uncomprehendingly for a moment then looked past her at the grey haired film maker and saw the truth in his eyes. "Oh god … Oh mom … " Then he was in her arms, holding on to her for all he was worth, sobbing brokenly into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "I'm sorry, mom!" he cried, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"  
  
Shirley squeezed him as tightly as she dared, tears rolling unheeded down her cheeks, trying to reassure her terrified son with all the love she felt. It didn't seem to be enough. He continued sobbing in her arms for a long time, only stopping as his voice began to give out and he had exhausted his meagre supply of strength. He had continued apologising through his tears, seemingly desperate for her to forgive him. It didn't seem to matter how much she assured him that none of this was his fault - that he was the victim here - he still seemed convinced that he had screwed up, screwed up so badly that he didn't deserve to be forgiven. It broke her heart to see him in this state. Needing her so badly. It wasn't like he had never needed her in the past, of course. All her children knew they could come to her for help and advice whenever they needed it, and Keith was no exception. Of course, as he had grown older he had tried to be self-sufficient and to a large extent he had managed that. But it had warmed her heart when he had come to her for guidance or just to talk things over, to get a clearer perspective on what he should do. It was a sign that he still needed her. That he hadn't grown away from her love and support. But this … she had never seen him so wretched. He seemed to have lost every iota of self-control, and his complete and total vulnerability terrified her. But she was here for him. She would always be here for him. She would help him through this, ensure that he recovered both physically and emotionally from all this pain. And then she would kill the person responsible for bringing her son to this state.  
  
Finally worn out by his exertions, Keith eventually fell asleep in his mother's arms. He was still burning up and as she held him a moment longer, she realised that his hitching breaths were not just the result of his emotional breakdown, but that his breathing seemed suppressed. Her fear for his life almost overwhelmed her as she eased her son back onto the bed, adjusting the pillows beneath his head and lovingly wiping away the last vestiges of his tears with her thumb. "Reuben, we have to get a doctor," she whispered, finally turning to the manager, who had remained standing loyally beside the bed, watching as Shirley tried in vain to comfort the distraught Keith. He had been forced to wipe away a few tears of his own over the last few minutes.  
  
"I'm not sure whether that's a good idea," Greg offered, from where he was still standing, across the room. "What about the publicity this will generate?"  
  
Shirley turned slowly and had expressions been bullets, Greg would have been filled full of lead. "Mr Novak," she said, in an icy, controlled voice, "I don't think anything you say right now has any value whatsoever. In fact, I don't know what you're still doing here."  
  
But Reuben had considered Greg's words and now he broke in. "Shirley, he's right," he said, "We can't take Keith to a hospital. Someone will find out - I'll get reported in the press and Keith's reputation will be ruined."  
  
"You think I care about reputations?" Shirley was appalled at the very suggestion. "Reuben, he's been given heroin! He could die! We have to get him to a doctor!"  
  
The manager was torn. On the one hand, he wanted to protect Keith - for no other reason than that the young singer would have to live with the false tag of 'junkie' or 'ex-addict'. His professional concerns about the group and the regard in which they were held were secondary. He was more concerned about what effect such a character slur would have on Keith - it could be potentially more destructive to him personally than any amount of drug. On the other hand, he wasn't about to stand by and watch the kid die, nor suffer any more than he had to. He was no fool. He had been around and seen other kids go through heroin addiction and withdrawal. No that Keith had had long enough to get addicted, fortunately, but the after effects of even one shot, let alone two, could be devastating and excruciating.   
  
"We could get the hotel doctor?" he suggested.  
  
Shirley nodded mutely, her attention quickly returning to her eldest son now that this had been decided.   
  
Greg chewed his lip thoughtfully. He wasn't at all convinced that this was a good idea. A hotel doctor was still bound by his civic duty to report something like this and, whilst he no longer cared whether Joni got herself into trouble, was arrested, hell, shot for all he knew, he found he did care about these three people and the other kids. If any of this got out it could destroy them and Keith would undoubtedly feel responsible for that - that kid seemed to have some kind of guilt complex going which he didn't understand and which the drug only heightened.   
  
"Look, isn't there someone - a doctor - that you know, and who you trust?" he queried. "Someone who won't report this to the police, where it will then become public knowledge?"  
  
Reuben's gaze swivelled to him. An iceberg would have been warmer than his expression. But he was nodding in slow agreement. "He is right, Shirl," he said, grudgingly. "If we get the hotel doctor then he's duty bound to inform the police of a drug case and the police records of something like this could be made public. You know it's not your professional reputation I'm concerned about here. Just think about what this could do to Keith if people found out about this. I'm not sure he'd ever get over it."  
  
Shirley choked back a sob. Could this get any worse? Her poor baby - tricked into getting drunk, injected with heroin - twice! - destined to go through the agony of withdrawal and now the threat of all of it being made public. Reuben was right. It would simply destroy him. And none of this was his fault. Slowly, she turned, her gaze finally focussing on Greg. He took an involuntary step back at the sheer loathing he saw there. "You see this?" she demanded, indicating her comatose son. She still held his hand in her own. "You see what you and your precious Joni have done to him? I hope you're satisfied, Mr Novak. I hope you're happy now. And I hope Joni rots in hell for this!" With that, she broke down, and Reuben rushed round the bed to pull her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she had done for Keith not scan moments before.   
  
"Now see what you've done!" Reuben added his own voice of censure to Shirley's. "Mr Novak, I think you'd better go. This is private. We don't want anyone other than family here."  
  
Greg nodded, feeling very close to breaking down himself. He had witnessed heartbreak before - but not in such close personal circumstances. He wanted to kill Joni himself for what she had done. As he left he vowed to ensure that she would never do this to another human being. Or their family.  
  
Left alone, Shirley and Reuben comforted each other. The manager was close to tears again himself. Gazing down at the forlorn figure on the bed, he wondered how they were all going to get through this in one piece and what the consequences were going to be for this little family whom he loved as his own.  
  
In the end, they called the hotel doctor, who turned out to be a locum from the local hospital who had some knowledge of drug addiction. He was a sweet, older gentleman who, realising what could happen to this nice family if he reported this to the police, assured them that it would go no further and that if they needed him, they should simply call his private number, so as not to draw attention to the situation with the hotel staff. This greatly assuaged the fears of both Reuben and Shirley. He also reassured them, after examining the unconscious young man that, although he would suffer a great deal, it would be nowhere near as bad as they were probably envisioning, although they should be prepared for a lot of anguish in the next few hours. It was lucky, he told them, that Keith seemed to have been given relatively small doses. On top of the alcohol he had been slipped, a full dose or two could have been fatal.   
  
He left them with a prescription which Reuben volunteered to fill at the hotel pharmacy, and ordered them to call him if they needed him for anything.  
  
Keith was still burning up and his breathing was still too slow when Shirley checked on him after the doctor had departed. She glanced anxiously up at Rueben, biting her lip - a nervous habit she had developed over the years that she simply wasn't aware of any longer. "How could anyone do this to him?" she asked him.   
  
The anguish in her voice made him wince. He couldn't answer her. His eyes followed hers to the unconscious boy on the bed. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to hurt Keith - deliberately or not. Sure, the eldest of the Partridges had, like his younger brother, baited him occasionally over the years and sometimes, they had clashed over some of the venues he had booked them into. But he was basically a good kid with a heart of gold who loved his mom and his brothers and sisters enough to write and perform songs with them to ensure a solid future not only for himself but for the rest of his family. Reuben knew that Keith was well aware that he could be snapped up by any of the major record labels at any time. The kid had a great voice and his looks drew the girls from all over. He was a great crowd puller everywhere he went - and, yes, he knew that too. But he was fiercely loyal to his family and had refused to allow anything - including his teen idol status - to distract him from their joint goal. Besides, Reuben had a feeling that he wasn't quite ready to go out on his own just yet. Despite his outward confidence and showmanship on stage, people tended to forget that he was still just a boy - an idol to millions, perhaps, but a boy who actually liked to have his family around him and got a real kick out of performing with them. Anyone observing him closely during one of the Partridge Family concerts would be able to see that. Above all, he was decent, kind and loveable. Which was why it was so hard to comprehend that someone would want to harm him in this way. And Reuben knew that these same thoughts were running through Shirley's mind - and breaking her heart in the process.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by a slight moan from the direction of the bed. Shirley had been sitting beside Keith, stroking his hair. Now she leaned forward, peering into his face, which was pulled into a frown. "Keith? Keith, honey?"  
  
"Mom … " It was a voice dredged from hell, and he was beginning to look like he'd been there, too, as he started to writhe around on the bed, curling up on the duvet, his face contorted with pain. "Oh … god … mom … gonna be … " Before he could even get the final word out, a torrent of bile rushed forth from his bluing lips, staining the bed and spilling onto the floor. He uttered a low groan and threw up again, seemingly unaware of where he was and completely unable to help himself. Shirley had jumped back in alarm, but now she helped raise him off the bed so that he didn't choke on his own vomit, and held him tight against her chest as Reuben, having rushed into the bathroom at the first sign of him throwing up returned with the only container he could find - the plastic wastebin. It was a little too late, but was enough to suffice as he expelled everything that was in his stomach until there was nothing left to emerge and he was left dry heaving, his arms wrapped around his midriff, whimpering continuously. Shirley held him firmly in her embrace, her arms locked tight around his shoulders, murmuring soothingly into his left ear. Eventually, even the dry heaves came to an end and he fell back into his mom, her arms enfolding him, his head resting heavily on her shoulder, long dark hair tickling her throat. They remained in that position for some time. At length, Shirley found herself once again with a sleeping teenager in her arms and she exchanged glances with Reuben.  
  
"We better get this cleaned up," he suggested, pragmatically, indicating the mess on the bed and floor. "And I'll get him something more comfortable to wear than his jeans and shirt."  
  
Shirley nodded, seeing the wisdom in their friend's words. She didn't let go of Keith, though. She was too afraid, and besides, he needed her. She could hear his soft, if irregular breathing in her ear and feel his steady heartbeat below her right hand. It was all she needed to reassure her of his continued existence. She was going to hold on to him just as long as she could - and then some.   
  
It took a little time and some physical effort, but eventually, they had everything cleaned up, including the bed, which Reuben stripped, throwing the soiled sheets into a plastic laundry bag he had found in the wardrobe. They used soap from the bathroom mixed with water to clean the floor (and ruined several of the hotel's towels in the process) and Reuben found Keith some of his own pajamas until they could get into the boys' room to retrieve the his own. There were some spare sheets and pillows, not to mention a couple of fluffy blankets on the overhead shelf in the wardrobe, with which they covered the bed. It was at this point that Reuben thanked god they had gone upmarket this time and booked suites, however inadvertently. No expense spared. And what that expense was giving them this time!   
  
Despite Shirley's objections, he took on the lone task of wrestling Keith out of his clothes and into the pajamas - although this was made more difficult by the singer's complete lack of co-operation. His flaccid limbs flopped all over the place and Reuben at one point regretted volunteering. But he knew that Keith would be mortified if he ever discovered that his mother had undressed him, despite his present infirmity.  
  
Eventually, everything was once again clean, Keith had been cleaned up and put into Reuben's night clothes and he was once more ensconced in bed, apparently sleeping soundly. But Reuben knew this wouldn't last. Withdrawal, even after only one or two shots of heroin was never easy. There was more - and probably worse to come.   



	6. Chapter 6

Keith was hovering somewhere between sleep and awareness. That ephemeral state where the sounds and perceptions of his surroundings were just beginning to impinge on his consciousness. He could hear the distant roar of traffic from beyond the slightly open window and smell the fresh spring air on the breeze which wafted through. The softness of the mattress beneath him was a balm to his aching body and he snuffled further into the pillows, trying to find a more comfortable spot. As he moved, however, a spasm of pain shot through his torso, seemingly originating in his head and spearing all the way through to his feet. Unwittingly, he groaned and almost immediately heard his mom's voice nearby. "Keith? Sweetheart?"  
  
He couldn't answer her. He wanted to, but the sudden rush of molten fire through his limbs was taking his breath away. He didn't even have sufficient energy to scream - not that it would have made him feel any better. His lungs were in flames and he could feel himself burning up - could almost feel the blaze licking around his body, consuming him, inch by inch. Hands touched him - feeling his forehead, stroking his burning face. He could hear the anguish in his mom's voice but couldn't find the voice to reassure her - couldn't even find it within to reassure himself. He was convinced that he was ablaze, couldn't understand why everyone in the room couldn't see it, wondered dimly why they didn't get some water to douse the flames, put out the fire and save him. His entire body was searing with the conflagration within and he yearned for someone to either save him or put him out of his misery. He was not even aware that he was sobbing weakly as the inferno devoured him, inch by inch and eventually, he fell into liquid lava the colour of his own blood and allowed the abyss to claim him.  
  
Shirley looked up at Reuben aghast as Keith once more slipped into oblivion. She had been dozing fitfully beside the bed when she had heard the faint groan and had become instantly alert, leaning over him, waiting for him to reclaim consciousness. But he hadn't even opened his eyes. Instead, he had squeezed them closed even tighter and pressed himself into the bed, his arms wrapped around his body as though in excruciating pain. When she had felt his forehead and cheek, she had been appalled. He was burning up! Haltingly, she had called out to Reuben, who had also fallen asleep and hadn't woken with Keith's initial cry, and on her instructions, he had run into the bathroom to wet a cloth. By the time he brought it back, however, Keith had slipped back once more into a sleep which was like a little death and Shirley was fighting not to show her despair.   
  
Tenderly, she wiped the cool cloth over her son's fevered skin, gazing into his beloved face; still able to see so much of his father in his mobile, delicate features. He was so much like his dad - in so many ways, she reflected, yet he had also inherited her love of family and a streak of mischief which was only outclassed by that of his younger brother. The two made an incorrigible pair - but they did liven things up at the Partridge home. It was different with Laurie. He was different with Laurie. The two were close enough in age to be rivals and friends at the same time. And sometimes it was difficult to tell which aspect of each was winning. But despite their bickering and seemingly almost constant baiting they had a close, loving relationship. They protected each other instinctively against outside forces. When one was threatened, the other immediately went to the rescue; yet they were also capable of ganging up on each other with said outside forces if they thought it would put them one up against the other. She sighed heavily as she thought of her daughter and her other kids, who would still be asleep, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding in Reuben's suite. Reuben would have to be despatched to tell them some lie, give some excuse for their mother's absence from their side and for Keith's non-appearance. They would undoubtedly put two and two together and come up with some wild conclusion but never, in their wildest dreams would they be able to envision the truth of what was happening to their brother. Never would they be able to believe that someone had done this to him - out of spite, out of malice, or simply out of complete irresponsibility, it no longer mattered. All that mattered was getting him through this, whole, complete and with no lingering effects either physically or psychologically. Shirley was no fool. She realised that there was a very good chance that her eldest son would pay mentally for this whole incident despite the fact that he wasn't to blame for any of it. He would carry the responsibility and it would haunt him for many a night. That was a certainty. All she could do was try to limit the effects, try to reassure him that this was the result of a crazy, mixed-up girl's endeavours and not something over which he had any control.   
  
"How's he doing?" Reuben's voice intruded on her contemplation and she glanced up at him, smiling wearily.   
  
"I think he's cooled down a bit," she responded, feeling Keith's brow again with the back of her hand. "Oh, Reuben, I can't imagine what he's going through, what he's going to suffer. If I had that girl here, I'd …"  
  
"Yeah, I know," Reuben interjected feelingly. "I'd like to wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze - slowly. Junkies!" There was total disgust in his voice. "They're a law unto themselves, Shirl.  
But why we had to have one on the tour with us and why she targetted Keith … well, I just don't know."  
"She was pretty, Reuben."  
  
"Yeah, she was, but …"  
  
"She was pretty and she found Keith attractive. And he is very handsome - I know I shouldn't say that. I am his mother after all, and I'm bound to be a little biased, but let's face it, I'm not the only one to think that."  
  
Reuben smiled at Shirley's words. "Yeah," he agreed. "He is a good lookin' kid, I'll give you that."  
  
"And he has talent," Shirley pointed out. "Talent and good looks always attract people - sometimes the wrong kind of people. " she added, darkly.   
  
"And this time it was definitely the wrong kind of people," Reuben said with a heavy sigh.  
  
Shirley glanced down again at her eldest. The love in her face almost brought the Partridge Family manager to tears again. "But he wasn't to know that," she said, softly. "He had no idea - none of us did. Keith would never even think something like that about someone unless there were signs and none of us saw signs that she was a … 'junkie'."  
  
"He's not stupid, Shirley."  
  
"No, he's not. He's bright and intelligent and if there had been any indication - any indication at all that Joni was an addict, then he would have seen it. I'm not saying he would have stayed away from her. He might be intelligent but sometimes, common sense is not his greatest attribute. But he might have seen it as his mission to save her from herself. He can be very gallant and occasionally quiet heroic, my son," she finished, fondly.  
  
"And sometimes blind to everything except a pretty girl," Reuben pointed out. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Shirley," he temporised. "I know he didn't know anything about the girl's inclinations, but sometimes, when a pretty girl is paying attention to him … "  
  
"He forgets everything else," Shirley finished for him, with a tired smile. "Yes, I know, Reuben. But he would never have let himself get trapped in this situation if he'd known or suspected she was a drug addict. He's far too sensible for that. You do believe that, don't you?"  
  
"Knowing Keith as well as I do, of course I believe that," Reuben assured her hurriedly as the mother instinctively leapt to the defence of her firstborn. He patted her on the shoulder. "Shirl, none of this is his fault - which is something we've been saying pretty much from the start. The only thing we have to do is make him understand that when he gets better."  
  
Their conversation was interrupted at that moment by a small sound from the bed, and both turned as one toward the source.  
  
*****  
  
Keith awoke again to the heat which was trying to devour him from inside out and tried in vain to move away from it, escape the pyre. Almost immediately, he felt the slight relief of coolness against his burning brow, but it was short lived as the heat strove to turn it into steam. He moved restlessly under the sheets, his head tossing to and fro in an effort to escape the all-powerful fire which burned within him - to no avail. It seemed he was destined to continue being tortured by the rising incandescence, and he whimpered softly. "Hot …" he murmured. "… Mom …?"  
  
Shirley paused in the act of wiping her son's face with the cold cloth to feel his forehead as she heard him speak, and frowned. "Hot?" she echoed. "No, honey, your temperature's going down. You're just a little feverish, that's all."  
  
Keith could hear his mother's words, but he didn't understand them. Something about him not being hot? Then what was this searing, blazing furnace in his joints, his muscles, the pit of his stomach? His lungs seemed to struggle for every breath and even when he managed to gasp one in, the pain of it made him regret the action immediately. "Hurts …" he moaned.  
Shirley's lips trembled as she watched her son enduring this seemingly relentless agony. She continued laving his face with the cloth in deference to the fire which seemed to be burning inside him. She didn't understand why he complained of being so hot and could only assume that the drug, travelling through his system, was causing his imagined fever. Certainly it was not one of the side effects of withdrawal of which the doctor had forewarned them earlier and his prognosis had been pretty explicit. "Nausea, vomiting, joint and muscle pain - there may even be convulsions as the drug works its way out of his system." Shirley had flinched at his words and what they meant for Keith - unremitting agony for the next few hours and perhaps beyond. The doctor had taken a sample of blood from her son to send to the lab in an effort to ascertain how much heroin he had actually been given and had tried to reassure the anxious and frightened adults that neither dose could have been a full one, otherwise Keith would have already been dead.   
  
"Hurts …" Keith mumbled again as Shirley recalled with a shudder the doctor's words and tried desperately to take heart from them. She cupped her son's ashen cheek in one hand, stroking her thumb tenderly over his skin, trying to comfort him by touch alone.  
  
"Sshhh," she crooned, softly, as his head turned toward her touch, almost as though he knew, on some level, that she was there. He was obviously nowhere near consciousness despite his ramblings. "It's going to be all right, sweetheart, I promise." She bit back a sob as she uttered the words, praying that she was right. She couldn't lose him - not her baby, her son. She loved him so much. He couldn't die. She wouldn't allow it.  
  
  
An hour later, Keith suffered the convulsion the doctor had predicted. He had been climbing slowly toward full consciousness, moaning almost continuously as the pain increased and eclipsed even the molten lava in his blood. Suddenly it peaked and his body arched into it, his head banging against the headboard with such force that the headboard itself impacted violently with the wall behind it.  
  
Next door, Laurie was awoken with a start by the noise. She glanced a the travel clock on the table next to her bed and was startled to find it was already 9:00am. Scrambling out of bed, she reached for her dressing gown, wondering why she had been allowed to sleep so late and where her mom was. Tracy was still dead to the world in the bed across the small hall. She was just about to leave the room to find the answers to her questions, when she heard a strangled cry from the next room. Her curiosity piqued, she moved over to the wall and, putting her ear next to it, listened intently for any further noise. She was rewarded by yet another cry, the strangulated sound of someone in pain, and - it sounded suspiciously like Keith. But what would her brother be doing in Reuben's room and what in god's name could make him sound like that? Determined to find out, she strode over to the door and opened it - only to find Danny standing outside waiting for her.  
  
"You heard it too, huh" he queried. He was still in his pajamas, his robe belted tightly around his waist. He still looked half asleep but his freckled face was at once inquisitive and troubled. "You know Keith never got back to the room last night?" he offered as an observation. "You don't think … ?"  
  
"I don't know what to think," Laurie told him, firmly. "But we'd better find out what's going on. C'mon."  
  
As one, they headed toward Rueben's suite   
  
  
Shirley had watched, helplessly and in horror as Keith experienced two more convulsions, each as terrifying as the first. Rueben, who had fallen asleep in the easy chair, came awake with a start as Keith cried out incoherently. He had been dreaming and heard the cry of a wounded animal in terrible pain - then he realised that it was a human sound and nearly fell out of his chair as comprehension dawned and he made a start for the bed before he had truly woken up. Despite nearly tripping over the pale brown rug on the way, he was at Keith's bedside in record time, in time to witness the last convulsion. It was a horrifying sight to behold as the teenager's back arched in a taut bow, his limbs spasming in a violent paroxysm, then, without warning, he flopped back down onto the bed, gasping for breaths which seemed to take an age to travel in and out of his lungs. Shirley had jammed her fist up against her mouth in an effort to prevent herself from screaming, her blue eyes wide with fright. She couldn't speak, was barely breathing herself as she watched her son suffer this latest, shocking attack on his body.  
  
"Oh my god!"  
  
The stunned exclamation originated from the doorway. Shirley swivelled on the bed to stare in dismay at Laurie, who had uttered the words, and Danny, both of whom were staring, in turn, in complete shock at the now motionless figure on the bed.   
  
"Laurie!"  
  
"Mom .. what …?" Her eldest daughter turned fearful eyes on her, silently demanding an explanation, begging for reassurance that what she was seeing wasn't real.   
  
"Keith …" murmured Danny, taking a step forward, unable to drag his eyes away from his older brother. Keith looked dreadful - would have done so even had they not just witnessed him having a convulsion of some kind. His face was ashen, there were dark shadows under his eyes and his lips had turned an unnatural pale colour. He looked almost … "Is he … is he … dead?"   
  
Danny's eyes too were asking the same questions as his sister, and Shirley rose from the bed, moving toward them to take them into her arms. They leaned into her embrace, throwing their arms around her and each other as she lost herself momentarily in their love. Then she released them, stepping back and regarding them sadly. There were tears in her eyes and her face was blotched - it looked like she had been crying a lot.   
  
"Mom?" Laurie's voice was ragged as she glanced over in the direction of the bed, where Reuben was still standing, his gaze riveted on Keith now that Shirley had taken care of the newest problem. "Mom .. what is it? What's happened?"   
  
Shirley sighed inwardly and studied her eldest daughter and middle son carefully, trying to gauge how much to tell them. Laurie was old enough, certainly, to be well informed about drugs and it was no use trying to keep this a secret from her now. She was extremely bright and she had already seen too much anyway. Danny had often been referred to by Reuben as a 35 year old in a midget's body and she had to admit that he often seemed more worldly wise than anyone else in the family, including herself. Glancing back at her firstborn, who now lay still and silent, alarmingly so, she came to a quick decision. She turned back to the other two and put an arm around each, leading them to the large sofa which took up one end of the room. "You'd better sit down, kids," she said, quietly. "I have something to tell you." 


	7. Chapter 7

"I'll kill her," Laurie declared, savagely, a few moments later, after Shirley had finished explaining the entire situation to them.  
  
"I think you'll have to stand in line," muttered Danny, darkly as he scrutinised first his mom and then Reuben. It was clear to him that beneath the fear and anxiety for his brother's wellbeing lay a wellspring of anger which had barely been tapped. And when it was - well, look out, Joni! It didn't occur to him at that moment to examine his own feelings; he didn't fully recognise the emotions which were running rampant through his own heart. Terror for his brother, compassion for his mom and Reuben for what they had gone through over the last few hours and rage. A rage so white hot that it practically eclipsed every other rational thought. "Where is she, anyway?"   
  
Shirley looked at him. Outwardly calm, his words spoken in a composed, controlled manner. She knew her middle son well enough to recognise the seething emotions bubbling just below the surface. Danny was very like his dad in that respect. Everyday problems could be cast off like so much water from a duck's back, but it was a different matter when it came to a threat to his family. That was the one thing guaranteed to activate all his protective instincts and really fuel his anger. An anger which was slow to build and which had the potential to be very dangerous - especially to the perpetrator of the threat. That was a trait his dad had possessed in full measure and to see it manifest itself so blatantly in her middle son was a little scary.   
  
"I don't know," she said, at length, in answer to his question. "I got the impression that she wasn't around any more."   
  
"You think Mr Novak killed her?" The question was almost gleeful in its optimism.  
  
"Danny!" She was shocked that he could even consider such a thing, although hadn't she been having similar thoughts since she had discovered what had happened to Keith and who was responsible for it? "No," she continued, quietly. "I don't think that at all. But she hasn't been arrested, otherwise the police would have been here." And that would only have added to the crisis. They would have filled out a report on Keith, the press would have gotten hold of it and it would have been yet one more trauma for him to endure. Thank god for small mercies.  
  
"Good." Danny's quiet voice trembled slightly with the fury he was manfully suppressing. "Cos when we find her, I'd like to do the job myself."  
  
She knew she should admonish him, warn him of the consequences of such an action, assure him that he didn't really feel that way at all, but she couldn't. How could she tell him all that when she felt exactly the same way? Instead, she put her arm around him, hugging him and feeling just a little less alone.   
  
Laurie, meanwhile, had been unable to tear her eyes away from her older brother, and had finally moved from the sofa to stand beside the bed where Keith lay. His breathing was ragged and he looked like a corpse. He was still unconscious, long dark eyelashes fanning pasty white cheeks, his normally smooth brow furrowed into a frown of pain. She reached out, stroking his forehead lightly with her fingers, trying to ease the lines of strain on his face. With a small sound of protest, he moved away from her touch, wincing as another jolt of pain speared its way through him. Laurie bit her lip to keep it from trembling. How could anyone do this to Keith? Why would they want to? What had possessed Joni to give him heroin … and lastly, on the very heels of that thought came the revelation of what she had seen in the bathroom of the diner. Joni, injecting herself, convincing Laurie it was insulin for her diabetes. Insulin! And Laurie had believed her! This was all her fault! If she had reported to her mom, to Reuben, even to Keith what she had seen and what she actually, she now admitted to herself, suspected, then her older brother, her best friend, would not now be lying here, suffering, hurting, perhaps even dying. This was all her fault! Unwittingly, she let out a sob, before covering her mouth with one hand. But it was too late. Shirley, instinctively attuned to all her children, had heard it and had hurried over from the other end of the room, Danny in her wake, following more slowly. He seemed reluctant to go anywhere near his brother - although he didn't seem inclined to leave, either. And for the life in him, he would have been hard pressed to explain why.  
  
"Laurie, it's all right, " soothed Shirley as she wrapped her eldest daughter in a consoling hug. "The doctor seems to think that Keith will come out of this all right. Laurie! Laurie? What is it?" as, despite her reassurances, Laurie had broken down in floods of tears, sobbing desolately into her mom's shoulder.  
  
"Oh mom"" she cried, lifting her head, meeting her mother's worried gaze briefly and, unable to hold the contact, quickly looking away again. "Mom, I'm sorry! I should have realised! I should have told someone! But … but I didn't and now Keith's … Keith's … oh mom, I'm so sorry!"  
  
"Realised?" echoed Shirley blankly. "Told someone?" She placed her hands on Laurie's heaving shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. "Laurie, honey, what are you talking about? What is it?"  
  
The tall, attractive brunette broke away from her mother, turning her back on her momentarily, before taking a deep, shaky breath and spinning around to face her again. Although her face was streaked with tears and she was still sniffling into the handkerchief she had retrieved from her dressing gown pocket, she suddenly seemed resolute and Shirley waited for whatever revelation she was about to hear.  
  
"I saw Joni … injecting herself in the bathroom at the diner," Laurie told them, miserably. "She told me she was a diabetic, that it was insulin. I kind of wondered at the time, especially as she's so thin, but … but I took her at her word. Oh mom, I should have known! Should have come to you or Reuben - even told Keith, but I trusted her. I trusted her and now look what she'd done - she nearly killed my brother!"" With this, she burst out into fresh floods of tears and Shirley sadly took her into her arms once more, stroking her gleaming long hair, whispering nonsensical words of comfort whilst exchanging troubled glances with Reuben, who merely shrugged helplessly.  
  
Danny, meanwhile, shook his head at Laurie's confession, his eyes meeting his mom's over the top of his sister's head as Shirley tried to reassure her. "Mom, this isn't Laurie's fault," he said, sagely. "She wasn't to know that Joni was lying. She'd have to be psychic - heck, we'd all have to be able to read minds to figure out what was going on inside that rotten girl's head! You can't blame Laurie for this - and it wasn't Keith's fault, either," he added, loyally.  
  
Shirley smiled bravely through her own tears at the wisdom and generosity of spirit of her middle child. "Of course it's not Laurie's fault," she replied. "Laurie. Laurie, listen to me." Placing a gentle hand either side of the girl's head, she forced her to make eye contact, holding her firmly so she couldn't get away. "Honey, you weren't to know. None of this is your fault. The only fault here - the only person to blame is Joni. She was the one who did this to Keith, not you. Sure, if we'd known about her drug habit sooner, we could have tried to keep Keith away from her - to keep you all away, but you're not responsible for any of this. And neither is your brother," she added, with a quick glance at Danny, to whom Keith's innocence in all of this seemed very important. "We know that . What we have to do now is pull together as a family and help Keith through this. He's going to need all of us to be there for him. It's going to be very rough - on everyone, but especially Keith. Do you two think you can be there for your brother?"  
  
Laurie smiled tremulously and nodded. She didn't need to be convinced. She had already decided that as long as her brother needed her then her place was right beside him, regardless of what happened. Danny, on the other hand, said nothing. He glanced quickly at Keith and felt panic stir within. He wanted to say 'yes', wanted to help his brother, but couldn't seem to bring himself to even move any closer to the bed let alone anything else. He couldn't understand it. Despite their constant baiting of one another, he loved his elder brother, wanted to kill Joni for what she had done to him and he knew that none of this was Keith's fault. He had, after all, insisted as much to his mom; jumping to his defence as easily as breathing. But the image of Keith in the throes of a convulsion - the sight which had greeted them upon their entrance into the suite - was burned into his brain. He had never seen anything like that before and hoped he would never see it again. It had terrified him. And afterwards, when his brother lay so still and silent, looking for all the world like he was dead … he shuddered just thinking about it. He realised that there was no logical reason for him to be feeling this way - afraid of approaching the bed, of looking at his brother, of being there for Keith when he needed them, but he simply couldn't bring himself to take those final steps, nor say the words which his mother was waiting so anxiously to hear.  
  
Shirley studied her younger son with consternation, watching the play of emotions flickering across his expressive face. She recognised the fear which seemed to predominate and a pang of sorrow swept through her as she realised what must be going through his mind. Keith's convulsions had been horrifying enough for her and Reuben. For Laurie and Danny they must have been the scariest thing they had ever seen in their young lives. Maybe she was asking too much, she reflected. Maybe Danny would be better off out of the room, away from Keith's torment, so he wouldn't have to see his brother in such awful, seemingly unremitting pain.  
  
A small, plaintive sound from the bed intruded on her thoughts at that instant and she turned, quickly, letting go of Laurie to be with her firstborn. "Keith? Honey? Can you hear me?"  
  
"Mom .." The hazel eyes blinked once, twice, and then blearily opened upon the world. He looked like hell and probably felt like it too. Groggily, he stared around him, then his eyes alighted on his siblings and he groaned. Oh god, they shouldn't be here, witnessing this! Wasn't it enough that his mom was here, suffering right alongside him? Did he have to put them through the torture too? "No," he cried, distraught. "I don't … want … mom .. get them … out of here …"  
  
The thin, broken sound, a parody of Keith's normal voice, seemed to cut right through Danny. His throat constricted at the sound and his heart - his heart seemed to physically hurt. Without a second thought, he was suddenly at his brother's bedside, leaning over the tortured soul who was trying so desperately to get rid of them and enveloping him in a hug so hard that Keith gasped in pain. Instantly contrite, Danny leapt back as Keith fell back into the pillows, struggling to catch his breath.  
  
"Oh no! Keith! I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "Are you … are you all right?"  
  
Keith laughed, a thin, hollow sound which then resulted in a bout of coughing which left him even more breathless. Panic-stricken, Danny could only stand, rooted to the spot, as their mother swooped in to help her eldest son, wrapping a supporting arm around his shoulders and raising him up in bed to enable him to breathe a little easier. Reuben, meanwhile, hurriedly stacked the pillows up behind the young singer so that, when Shirley finally eased him back, he was slightly elevated, alleviating the strain on his poor, overworked lungs.  
At length, Keith was sufficiently recovered to focus, albeit somewhat dazedly, on his younger brother. He tried to smile, but it was a sickly effort at best. He looked ghastly, but at least he seemed fairly lucid and aware of his surroundings and for that, the two adults heaved individual sighs of relief.  
  
"Danny," he began, then paused, to take a series of short, sharp, painful breaths. He tried again. "Hey, squirt … sorry about that … it's just … what you said …"  
  
"I know, I know, It was a dumb question," Danny interjected hurriedly, both mortified at himself for having uttered something so completely stupid and for being the cause of such a harrowing episode for his elder sibling.  
  
Keith's smile this time was a little more successful, but it went nowhere near his eyes, which looked haunted. "S'okay, kid …" he managed, wheezing harshly. "Can't be as … dumb as I was … to trust Joni .."  
  
Shirley flinched at his words, but tried to take heart in the fact that they had been uttered during teasing banter with his brother. It was evident, however, that Keith's attention was fading fast. He was blinking rapidly, obviously trying his hardest to remain alert and he was very clearly in a lot of pain. His fine features seemed to be set in a permanent grimace and he was biting his lip as though trying to prevent himself from crying out. She reached out, tenderly stroking his hair and the look he directed toward her almost broke her heart. He looked so lost, so scared and so very, very young. "Sweetheart," she said, softly, "is there anything we can do to help?"  
  
He swallowed convulsively, and she saw his bottom lip tremble. He was fighting so hard to keep it all together, not wanting to break down in front of Laurie and Danny, but it was all getting too much for him. She glanced over at her younger son, whom, she realised, had come to the same conclusion and was moving away from the bed slowly, patting Keith gently on the arm as he did so. "We're gonna go get dressed now," he said, brightly, though the incipient tears in his eyes belied his outward demeanour. "Laurie hasn't even had a shower yet and, boy, she smells!"  
  
"I do not" protested that young lady, automatically, then, suddenly comprehending the situation, continued, somewhat haughtily "If anyone smells here, Danny Partridge, then it's you! I don't know what you do at night to get so sweaty - and I don't want to know. But I've got some very nice soap in my luggage which you might want to try."  
  
"Yeah, and the day I use your soap is the day I'll start to wear dresses!" came the instant rejoinder.  
  
Laurie smirked. "Now that I'd like to see!"  
  
Shirley raised her eyes heavenwards, although inwardly she was glad of this bit of near normality in the room. "Kids!" she censured them. "Please - just go and wash up. And Danny - don't forget your feet this time."  
  
"How could I forget my feet?" he puzzled. "I walk on 'em every day!"  
  
Turning back to her other son, Shirley tuned out the mock argument as it continued toward the door and out into the hall and the door closed gently behind Danny and Laurie.   
  
"Bet … I look awful, huh, mom?" Keith asked her in a rasping voice heavy with suffering.   
She smiled shakily as she continued combing her fingers through his hair, brushing back his fringe and taking the opportunity to feel his temperature. At least he was a lot cooler now. "Well, darling, you don't exactly look like the picture of health," she admitted. "Do you think you can get some sleep, or is the pain very bad?"  
  
The hazel eyes bored into hers with an intensity which almost frightened her and she watched as a single tear escaped and ran down his colourless cheek. "M'scared, mom," he admitted, with a sob. "M'sorry …"  
  
"Ssshh, ssshhh, honey" she soothed him, leaning further down to kiss the top of his head, trying to reassure him. "We know the whole story, Keith. We know it's not your fault. It's going to be all right honey. I love you. We all love you. We're going to get through this together, I promise."  
  
"Honest?" He was gazing at her now as though she were some kind of lodestone, his trust in her ability to right things as complete now as it had been when he'd been a little boy.  
  
She nodded, her smile strained but sincere. "I promise."  
  
A further spasm shot through him then and he tensed, riding the pain, but it was exhausting him and all he wanted to do was slip away, into oblivion, where this constant ache and throbbing in his joints and muscles couldn't reach him. "Hurts," he mumbled, then, "M'sorry, mom …" as he drifted away again.  
  
She kissed him again, cupping his face in her hand as she did so and leaning her own face against the dark head. "That's all right, darling. You just rest. I'll be here. I won't leave you. I promise."   



	8. Chapter 8

Laurie and Danny gratefully dropped their cheerful facade once they were out in the corridor. They were both still in shock over both Joni's horrific betrayal of their brother's trust and the purgatory which Keith was going through. Neither of them had ever seen anyone in so much pain before. The closest they had come was the occasion a couple of years back with Keith's appendicitis. He had awoken in agony in the middle of the night and his cries of pain had brought the entire family awake. Mom had been first on the scene, closing the rest of the brood out of her eldest son's room, then, a few moments later, popping her head round the door and urging Laurie to call an ambulance. Shirley had left Laurie in charge of the other kids while she had ridden to the hospital in the ambulance with Keith and nothing had been heard from her for several hours. Laurie and Danny had been frantic with worry by the time the telephone did finally ring at 8:15am the same morning and mom had given them the news that their elder brother had undergone an emergency appendectomy and was going to be all right. The relief was palpable. More so because they had caught a frightening glimpse of Keith when he had been led from his room - he had looked so awful. He was pale and a little sweaty and his face was scrunched up in agony. He had been practically doubled over by the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs but had refused a stretcher because he didn't want to scare the kids. It had been too late for that, of course. The kids had already been scared. And that was how they had remained until the long-awaited call from the hospital. None of them had been able to go back to bed, and sleep had been an impossibility so they had sat in the lounge, waiting and worrying. Laurie had bitten almost all her nails down to the quick and Danny had pulled the thread of his dressing gown so much that he had worn a small hole in the weave of the pocket.  
  
A couple of years later, during what they now called the 'hamster incident', Keith had claimed that no-one had gotten as upset over his appendicitis as they were becoming over 'Dean Martin' the Hamster being sick. Little had he known how frightened they had actually been and how much jubilation had filled the little household when they had known he was going to recover.   
  
But even so, he had not looked as sick then as he did now. Nor had the pain then seemed anywhere near as bad as it was now. At least on that occasion the cure was at hand - remove the offending internal organ. What could you do when it was a drug racing through your blood, attacking the whole of your internal system? It wasn't like you could just siphon it out, although if there had been a way, both Laurie and Danny would have done just that to prevent him from suffering any more. The thought that he might have to endure even more before his ordeal was finally over truly terrified them and it was something neither of them wanted to witness again. But they had made a promise to their mother. And besides, not to be there with him to help him through his own personal hell was also unthinkable. They couldn't simply stay away and picture what was going on in Reuben's suite - mental images which would be only too explicit because of what they had already seen. They had to be there with Keith, to let him know that he wasn't alone and that they were there if he needed them, despite his apparent eagerness to see them leave.  
"See you in a few minutes?" Danny asked Laurie as he left her at her hotel door.  
She nodded. It was almost as if a silent communion had passed between them - a pact to see this through together. "I'll meet you here," she replied. "We'll go back in together."  
And thus the matter was decided.  
  
  
  
Shirley had been concentrating on Keith for so long that she had practically forgotten there was anyone else in the room. Eventually, Reuben coughed lightly to gain her attention. She turned, smiling apologetically. "Reuben, I'm sorry, I …"  
  
"Shirley …" Reuben cut her off quickly. "It's all right. I was just wondering what you want to do about Tracy and Chris. I guess Danny and Laurie are going to come back once they're showered and dressed - nothing could keep those two away now. But Tracy and Chris should be kept out of here."  
  
"You're right," she breathed, mortified at the realisation that all thoughts of her two youngest children had slipped right out of her mind. "Reuben, someone will have to take care of them, entertain them … I can't leave Keith, I …"  
  
Reuben leaned over, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. "It's okay, Shirl. I'll take care of it."  
  
"You?" she exclaimed, eyes wide with astonishment. "But Reuben, you always try to stay away from the little ones. How are you going to keep them entertained and …"  
  
"Hey, it's okay!" he interjected as she worried. "I know I always say I hate kids, but you're not gonna be able to drag Laurie away from your side now - and she's the only other logical choice. Look, what could be so hard about keeping a couple of kids amused anyway?" She just looked at him. Her expression spoke volumes. "Yeah, well, you know, " he stammered. "Okay, so it might be harder than it looks but someone's gotta do it and as manager, I'll take responsibility."  
Her smile this time was one of relief and gratitude. Rising from the bed she drew him into her arms and hugged him fiercely. "Thank you, Reuben," she whispered. "I don't know what we would do without you."  
  
Embarrassed now, he wriggled free from her embrace. "Aw, Shirley, it's nothing. Don't give it a second thought!"  
  
As he left the room, however, and she sank back onto the bed, running her hand absent-mindedly up and down her unconscious son's arm, she felt a pang of regret. Reuben had been a rock solid presence in this room for so many hours now. Someone she could turn to without reservation; someone who would know what to do without having to be asked; and someone whose support was given unconditionally and without second thoughts. He had also been the only other adult. What was she going to do without him for the next few hours?   
  
*****  
  
Laurie and Danny seemed to be back before she had had the chance to draw breath. In reality, she knew they had been gone over 40 minutes - after all, Laurie had had time to wash and dry her long hair and that usually took a while. They were seemingly eager to do what they could to help, although she could see the muted fear in their eyes. When Danny questioned Reuben's absence she explained about his mission and the middle Partridge snorted derisively.  
  
"Danny!" she admonished him.  
  
"I know, mom, I know," he temporised. "But Mr Kincaid - amusing Chris and Tracy for the day??? I'm not sure who'll have the nervous breakdown first - him or them!"  
  
Shirley had to smile at the picture this conjured up, and Danny breathed an inward sigh of relief, pleased to have brought a little relief to his mom.  
  
"How's Keith doing, mom?" Laurie asked softly at this point, returning their attention to the reason for their combined presence here.   
  
Shirley glanced back down at the inert form on the bed. There had been no further movement from her eldest son since he had lapsed back into unconsciousness nearly an hour before. She didn't know at this point whether to be relieved that he was not suffering any more pain for the present or fearful because he wouldn't wake up. "He's been .. asleep ever since you guys left," she said, at length.   
  
Mom sounded tired, reflected Laurie with concern. This must have been so hard on her, even with Reuben here, offering his support and help. Crouching beside the bed, Laurie looked up into Shirley's face, gauging the fear and worry and flinching at the new lines of strain she could see there. "Why don't you take a break, mom?" she asked, gently. "Danny and I can look after Keith for the time being. There's that nice big sofa over there …"  
  
"Oh, I couldn't," interjected Shirley, in dismay. "I can't leave him now, Laurie! Suppose he wakes up and I'm not here? I …"  
  
""Mom, Mom," Laurie cut her off gently. "You will be here. You'd just be over the other side of the room. If Keith needed you we'd only have to come over and wake you - if you were even asleep. Come on, how about it?"  
  
Shirley vacillated for a few moments. She desperately wanted to remain with Keith, watching over him, protecting him from any further harm, and so she could be there beside him when he regained consciousness, just like she had promised him. But at the same time, she had to admit that she was exhausted. The last few hours of stress and anguish had taken its toll on her and she knew that if she relaxed for even an instant then she would fall asleep. Not that she had been able to relax over the last few hours. And Laurie was so adamant, so persuasive. "You'd wake me as soon as Keith started to wake up?" she demanded of her eldest daughter.  
  
Laurie nodded. "I promise, Mom. As soon as there's any movement from him whatsoever. We'll wake you up"  
  
Shirley relented, surrendering to her daughter's logical argument. "I'll be just over there," she said, pointing toward the sofa and with a last loving look at Keith. She leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the soft brown hair which was splayed out across the pillows. He still looked so pale and his brow was furrowed in pain even in sleep - or unconsciousness. Despairingly, she wondered how long this torture was going to keep her poor baby in its vicious grip; when it was going to start relinquishing its hold and allow him some respite. She even felt guilty about her intention to get a little sleep. How could she sleep, without pain and worry, if he was unable to? It just wasn't fair!   
  
"Mom …" She was so absorbed in her own torment that she barely heard Laurie's soft voice. "Mom .. go. We'll look after everything. Mom?"  
  
Slowly she focused on the concerned gaze of her eldest daughter. The pert, attractive features were twisted into frown and there was anxiety in her green eyes. Summoning up a smile from somewhere, she stroked the long auburn hair and rose from the bed, starting what seemed to be the longest journey of her life - the few short steps across the room to the sofa.  
  
*****  
  
Danny and Laurie watched their mother surreptitiously whilst she made herself comfortable on the large, comfortable piece of furniture, closing her eyes reluctantly. A few moments later she was asleep. Laurie sighed in relief and turned back to the bed, where her older brother lay, quiescent. She studied him carefully. He truly looked terrible. The dark shadows beneath his eyes seemed even more pronounced in the soft bright sunshine pouring into the room through the large window. She had seen his pain for herself earlier but without experiencing it for herself could never hope to gauge the depth of it, nor what it was doing to him - although the external effects were devastating. His long, dark eyelashes swept over wan cheeks which appeared hollow, the fine boned features seeming even more prominent. Her throat constricted at how ill he truly looked and she longed to do something to help but knew that all any of them could do right now as be there to offer their support. There was no quick solution this time.  
  
  
  
Greg Novak glanced up at the mid morning sun, shading his eyes against its brilliance. He felt like he'd just been to war. After leaving Reuben Kincaid's suite, he had commenced a search for Joni. His fury had not abated, but had muted to a smouldering rage, which all but consumed him. Joni had carried things too far this time. Her last conquest had barely been 19, a good four years younger than she was. He was the lead singer of a band who had just been starting out and had, therefore, been susceptible to Joni's habit of namedropping. Convinced that she could set him and his band on the road to stardom, he had been flattered by her apparent interest in him. They had indulged in a brief affair. More than that, though, she had introduced him to the world of drugs - and he had become a willing victim. Greg had then watched his up and coming career deteriorate as he became more and more involved in the drug scene. Vast amounts of money had been spent - more than he could afford, and much more than their record company had paid them for their upcoming single release as he had succumbed. As his life spiralled out of control, Joni had relinquished all responsibility, but Greg knew where the blame lay, although he had never been able to prove that she was the one who had introduced him to drugs in the first place. He knew her well enough, however. Enough to know that she liked to share her experiences - particularly the one involving heroin. That seemed to be how she got her kicks these days, helping some poor innocent hook himself onto the drug and watching as his life span out of control.   
  
Despite the lack of evidence, but because of his suspicions, he had warned her then that she should stay away from the 'merchandise' from now on. She was a makeup artist, nothing more. It seemed, however, that she had not taken him seriously. Not only that, she had used an under-age kid to get her jollies this time. The Partridge kid had a tough time coming - and Greg had no desire to see him go through it. However, he had one thing the last victim didn't have - his family and a manager who truly cared about him as a person, not just as another contract. Maybe this young man would come out the other end okay. He would remember the experience, and it would not be a pleasant memory, but he would survive. Which was more than could be said for the other singer. The last Greg had heard he had overdosed and now lay in a coma in a hospital somewhere near his home town. He was not expected to recover but instead remain in a vegetative state until the day his machines were switched off. It was such a godawful waste. Of a talent, of a career and of a young life. And Joni was ultimately responsible for that. Just as she was responsible for what the Partridges were going through at that very moment.   
  
He had been unsuccessful in his search, however, This time she seemed to have taken him at his word and had split. To what destination he couldn't even begin to fathom. She wouldn't go home. Her folks had disowned her years ago. Only Greg had been fool enough to give her the opportunity to work. No-one else would have been willing to hire her. But he was never one to judge someone without at least giving them a chance to redeem themselves. Now he heartily wished that he had been a little less trusting. The consequences of his lack of suspicion were too terrible, the price far, far too high.  
  
As he entered the bus, he found Willie lounging on the cushions at the back - the same cushions on which he had found the evidence of Joni's latest escapade. Greg frowned. Where had Willie been during all of this? Although he had known the guy for a few years and trusted him implicitly, he would be surprised if Willie didn't have at least a little knowledge of some of what Joni had been doing last night. He liked her, and would never have snitched on her, even if he thought what she was doing was wrong. He would, however, have tried to put a stop to it. Thoughtfully, Greg walked down the bus toward him, determined to discover just what Willie knew - and also if he could help him to ascertain her whereabouts.  
  
"Hey, boss," the cameraman greeted him as he glanced up from the book in which he was engrossed to see Greg coming down the bus toward him.  
  
"Hey," Greg reciprocated. Then, nonchalantly, "Hey, Willie, seen Joni around?"  
  
There it was - a flash of guilt sweeping across the man's face. There and gone in an instant. But not quickly enough Just how much did he know?  
"Uh - haven't seen her," same the evasive response. "Someone need making up, then?"  
  
"Cut the crap, Willie." Greg's voice was harsh. He intended to find out exactly how much Willie knew and how culpable he was in the situation.  
  
"Wha ..?"  
  
"I said, 'cut the crap'. I want you to tell me what you know about what went on here last night and I want the truth. I can always get another cameraman. You're expendable."  
  
Willie half-rose, startled by the threat and the venom in Greg's voice. He'd never heard his boss so angry. Novak was the very epitome of calm, laid-back cool. He was pretty okay for a boss and for a guy in general. Willie enjoyed working with him, meeting the acts they shadowed, indulging himself in his favourite hobby. Filming was his entire life. The last thing he wanted to do was antagonise Greg and thereby threaten his own career. He wasn't about the take the rap for anyone, least of all Joni. Rising fully from the cushions, therefore, he started toward the other man, holding out his hands in a placatory gesture. "Greg, you gotta believe me, I didn't know she was gonna seduce the kid. She got him drunk - spiked his 7-Up, you know? I left her here with him. Never occurred to me that they were gonna get it on, not that he seemed to be very into it. Seemed pretty far out of it, you know? Look, I came back in time to stop her and she promised to leave him alone. I - well, I trusted her. Maybe I was wrong but she promised, you know?"  
  
It was a familiar refrain. Hadn't Joni done exactly the same thing to him, Greg reflected, bitterly. And he had trusted her, too. How could he condemn Willie for taking her at her double-crossing word when he was guilty of doing the same thing after the last time this happened? "It'll never happen again, Greg, I promise." Oh yeah. Sure. Until the next time. At length, he realised that he had not responded to the cameraman and Willie was still standing there, regarding him somewhat nervously. "It's okay, Willie," he said, with a heavy sigh. "Cool it." Then, "So you didn't know she pumped young Partridge full of heroin?"  
  
Willie stared at him in utter shock. That more than anything he could say revealed to Greg his lack of complicity in Joni's plans. "Is the kid okay?" he demanded in a stunned voice. "He's not …?"  
  
"He's got a ways to go," Greg told him, icily. "Fortunately, Joni didn't give him a full dose - either time. Knowing her, she didn't have a lot to spare and whilst she might be willing to share her stash, she's not that generous. She would have needed some herself before she went out to score again - which is probably where she is now. But in a kid who's never done drugs before, even the tiniest amount can be bad. Plus it was mixed with alcohol …"  
  
"She could've killed him!" Willie exclaimed, appalled.  
  
"Yeah - she could," agreed Greg, heavily.  
  
"So - what are we gonna do?"  
  
"Do?" he echoed. "Willie, when I found them, I fired her. Now I want to find her to make sure she knows what she's done. I want her to face the consequences of her actions."  
  
Willie snorted. "Good luck!"  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Joni? Face the consequences of her actions? Come on, boss, you've got more of a chance of the moon being made from blue cheese!"  
  
"Dammit, Willie, I'm being serious here!"  
  
"So am I," came the reply. "Boss, Joni doesn't understand that drugs are wrong. She doesn't get it. She doesn't get that a lot of things are wrong. I think she may border on being a sociopath."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"It's a term I came across in one of the psychology books I like to read," Willie explained. "It means someone who has no social conscience. Someone who doesn't see the difference between right and wrong …"  
  
"Well, that sounds like Joni all right," mused Greg in a heavy voice. "But I still need to find her. You have any ideas where to look?"  
  
"Me?" Willie shrugged helplessly. "You might as well go looking for a needle in a haystack, man. Once Joni's gone to ground it's gonna be impossible to find her."  
  
"Still, we gotta try." Greg was adamant. Willie could see that. So, heaving a huge sigh of his own, he started down the bus after his boss. As he was about to disembark, he caught the flash of something underneath the driver's column. Reaching over, he picked it up and shook it, allowing the dust from the floor to fall off. Then he turned it over and …  
  
"Uh, Greg?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I think you oughta see this."  
  
Greg turned, irritated. He didn't want any further delays in his mission but when he saw Willie's expression, his heart sank. What now? "What … what is it?" he asked, reluctantly.  
  
Wordlessly, Willie handed over the object he had found on the floor of the bus and Greg winced as he turned it over and studied it. It was a photograph of Keith - in a highly compromising position, with Joni just moving away from him. It was obvious to anyone who saw it just what had been going on and Greg swallowed convulsively as he realised that someone else had to have been here last night. Someone who had witnessed her dose the kid up and seduce him - and instead of stopping her had instead photographed the entire thing. "Who …?"  
  
"Max!" Willie exclaimed, snapping his fingers as realisation dawned. "It had to be, Greg. No-one else was around last night. We found this under the driver's column and he's the driver … I wonder how many of these there are and where the rest of them are right now?"  
  
"Max!" Greg was livid now. "That lowdown dirty piece of scum! I'll have his hide for this! He could've stopped her! Could've helped the kid! But instead ..."  
"Instead he takes photos, which he has developed and probably intends to sell to the first tabloid which'll have them for a good price," Willie concluded. "Boss, we gotta get to him before he has a chance to do that!"  
  
"Before who has a chance to do what?"  
  
Greg closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. It seemed very time he found something he didn't want anyone else discovering on this trip, Reuben Kincaid happened by. Before he knew what was happening, the photograph had been removed from his hands and the Partridge Family manager was staring at it in total horror. "Keith …" he breathed. "Oh my god … Who took these?" he demanded furiously, waving the photograph in front of Greg. His face was florid with anger and outrage.  
  
"Reuben …"  
  
"Don't you 'Reuben' me!" The manager refused to be pacified by Greg's placatory tone. "Answer my question! Who took these - and what the hell is going on!?"   
  
"It was Max," Willie cut in, noticing that a number of people around the hotel had stopped and were now staring at them with open curiosity. "Max the driver. He must have taken these …"  
  
"Last night!" Reuben cut in. His voice was like shards of ice, and still a little loud. Unfortunately, he had not noticed their growing audience. "Are there more of these? And where is this 'Max'? I think I want a 'word' with him!"  
  
"You're not the only one," Greg muttered, his own anger with first Joni and now Max bubbling to the surface as he was yelled at by the Partridge Family manager. Any moment now it would break free and he would give the crowd which were now gathering a real show.  
  
"Hey, cool it, you guys, " Willie warned them, directing Rueben's attention to the increasing number of people around them. "Don't you think we should take this somewhere more … private?"  
  
Reuben was horrified to see the crowd they had attracted and forced himself to calm down, to approach this more logically. But it was difficult - especially as he glanced once more at the photograph in his hand - incriminating evidence of one of Keith's escapades last night - and evidence he had no intention of ever sharing with the boy's mother. It was bad enough that he had been plied with alcohol and drugged. She didn't need to know about this as well. It would only upset her further. He took a deep breath, but before he could speak, a little voice from beside him piped up.   
  
"Mr Kincaid, why are you yelling at Mr Novak? Did he do something wrong?"  
  
Flustered, Reuben stared down at Tracy, who was looking up at him with open curiosity. Quickly, he concealed the photograph from view and tried to smile reassuringly at her. "Uh, no, Tracy. Mr Novak and I are just having a … conversation. Isn't that right, Mr Novak?"  
  
Greg flinched as Tracy turned her redoubtable gaze on him. She was so trusting, so innocent, yet her eyes seemed to demand the truth. "Uh - yeah," he agreed, finally. "Yeah, that's all it was. It was a conversation, Tracy. A loud conversation."  
  
"You were arguing," she pointed out, zeroing in directly to the truth of the matter as children often do. "What were you arguing about?"  
  
"Yeah, Mr Kincaid." Now her brother, Chris, joined in. He had come to stand beside his sister and both of them were staring upwards at the two men as if they were oracles. "What were you arguing about?"  
  
Reuben grew even more flustered. "Uh .. I … well," he began, running his fingers under his shirt collar, feeling very uncomfortable with the way this whole thing was going. "Mr Novak and I - we  
were …"  
  
"Just having an argument about how best to film you two guys," Willie cut in, suddenly. Greg shot him a look of gratitude as he continued, "See, Mr Novak wanted to film you outside, but Mr Kincaid thought it would be better to do it in your hotel room. Personally, I think we should go to the amusement park to film - after all, what better place to see you guys as you really are? What d'you think?"  
  
At the words 'amusement park', Tracy and Chris had lost all interest in the argument and the fact that Rueben and Greg were engaged in one. They exchanged looks with each other and, as one, turned beseeching faces up to Reuben. "Oh, please, Mr Kincaid - can we go to the amusement park?"  
  
"Please, Mr Kincaid - we'll be good. We'll act great for the camera!"  
  
"Well, kids," Reuben began. "I don't know. I …"  
  
"I can take 'em," Willie offered. "After all, I am the one with the camera."  
  
"Oh, and you think I'm gonna entrust two more of the family to another one of your helpers?" demanded Reuben angrily of Greg.   
  
The film maker glared back. "I can assure you, Reuben - Mr Kincaid - that Willie is entirely trustworthy. Unlike some I could mention. He's been with me for a number of years and he has kid brothers and sisters. Tracy and Chris couldn't be in safer hands."  
  
"And I've got your word on that?" Reuben was still highly sceptical.  
  
"Mr Kincaid, I won't let anything happen to them," Willie assured him. I'll treat 'em the same as my own brothers and sisters back in Illinois. They're just gonna have a good time at the amusement park - I won't even let them on any of the dangerous rides. Just the smaller ones."  
  
Reuben still wasn't sure. After all, Shirley had entrusted the care of her youngest children to him and he wasn't about to betray that trust so easily. But he needed to find out exactly what was going on here and try some damage control. That was going to be impossible with the two little ones hanging onto his every word and action. "I have your word?"  
  
The cameraman nodded. "I'll get 'em back here for 4:00'o'clock - how's that?"  
  
Reluctantly, Reuben agreed and Willie, escorted by two small, very excited Partridges wandered off in the direction of the amusement park.  
Once they were out of sight, Reuben turned back to Greg. "Now," he said, icily. "Tell me about these photographs and where we can find your 'friend', Max."  



	9. Chapter 9

Keith floated back reluctantly to the edge of consciousness. The pain which had been assaulting him for so long had lessened somewhat although he was still having difficulty breathing and his lungs felt inflamed and sore. Still half-asleep, he conducted a cursory examination of his condition and decided that, although his limbs still ached intolerably and his head was pounding so hard he could hear the blood rushing through his ears, he didn't feel quite as bad as before. Then he had felt like he was dying. Now - he just wanted to die. Unwittingly, he moaned, moving his head slightly on the pillow. He heard someone's soft voice and felt a hand stroking his hair back. The fingers running through his hair felt nice - comforting, but he was loathe to surface fully into the agony which he knew awaited him once he regained full awareness. He was quite content, for the moment, just to lie here and let that someone stroke his hair and make him feel warm, safe and loved. "Mom .." he murmured, confident that it was indeed his mother who was sitting beside him, and leaning into her hand with a snuffle.   
  
Laurie bit her lip as her brother mumbled something under his breath and then turned into her hand. She couldn't be certain, but she thought that she had heard him say 'mom'. He thought their mother was still here; in fact, seemed convinced of the fact. Guilt swept through her as she glanced over at Shirley, deep in repose on the sofa at the other end of the room. She was loathe to wake her when Keith wasn't even fully cognizent yet. On the other hand, she had promised to do so if he even showed signs of coming back to awareness. Heaving a deep sigh, she turned back to her older brother, continuing to weave her fingers slowly through the dark hair which lay like a shroud beneath that wan, tortured face. "It's okay, honey," she whispered. "Everything's gonna be okay. Mom's here - and we're here too. We won't leave you, Keith. I promise."  
  
Danny, sitting on the big comfy chair beside the bed, his feet curled up underneath him, said nothing as he watched his older sister try to soothe Keith. The only thing he wanted in this world was his brother to wake up and talk to him, crack a few jokes, insult him or just plain chat to him. But that wasn't going to happen. Keith was still in pain. He could see that from the expression on his face. It looked like he was fighting it, but it was a losing battle and Danny felt Keith's agony rip its way through to his own soul. He wanted to help his brother. Wanted to do something to ease the torment. But there was nothing he could do to make the pain go away. Nothing he could say that would make things any better. And Keith wasn't just going to wake up, lay eyes on him and start cracking jokes. There were going to be no insults hurled today - and the redheaded Partridge found himself wondering - not for the first time since they had witnessed the awful events earlier that morning - if his older brother was ever going to insult him again. Whether he was ever going to recover from this. And if he didn't - what were they going to do? What was he going to do? He depended on Keith. To be there for him when things went wrong, as a partner in crime, as a target for his torments and sometimes as a tormentor himself. But more, he depended on him as his older brother, as someone who had always been there, as someone he leaned on, his pal, his co-conspirator, his hero. This was just so hard - sitting here, watching him whilst he suffered - and for no good reason. It wasn't like any of this was even his fault - uh, oh, Danny, he scolded himself. Don't go down that road again. His hatred of Joni had more or less settled down to a mild simmer now and he was in danger of stoking that fire and allowing it to blaze out of control. But if he ever got his hands on her …!  
  
"It's not fair!" he suddenly yelled, leaping out of the chair to pace around the room restlessly. "Why should Keith have to suffer like this when that no good Joni's out there - probably having a good time?! I hate her! I wish she was dead! I wish …" To his chagrin, his words ended on a sob as he broke down in floods of tears of anger, frustration and helplessness. Laurie reacted as quickly as she could but not quickly enough to prevent her mother being awoken by Danny's outburst. The next second he was in his mother's arms, her hands running up and down in his back trying to comfort him.   
  
"Danny," she crooned, softly. "Danny, hush. It's okay. Keith's going to be all right …"  
  
"How d'you know that, Mom?" he wept, turning his tear-streaked face upwards. "He's in such pain - and she's got away! She doesn't deserve to be free! He doesn't deserve this .. I - I don't know what I'll do if anything happens to … I mean …" He couldn't complete the sentence. Just voicing it might be enough to make it come true.  
  
"Nothing's going to happen to Keith, Danny," Laurie said, firmly, leaving Keith's side to come to stand beside their mother and younger brother. "He's going to be just fine. You can believe mom when she tells you that. She wouldn't lie. The doctor said he was going to be fine - that's what you said, mom , isn't it?"  
  
Shirley nodded. "Yes," she said, trying to hold her own tears in check at her children's obvious distress. Danny was still sobbing in her arms and she could see that Laurie was having a hard time holding herself together. Tears were glinting in her verdant green eyes and her lower lip was trembling. But she was trying to be brave for Danny, and for herself. Trying to believe that everything would be all right. That Keith would recover from all of this, that everything would eventually return to normal. And Shirley loved her for that. But she was having a hard time trying to convince herself of the same things. Especially when she glanced across at the bed to see that pale, limp figure lying so pitifully beneath the sheets. God, when would this nightmare end?  
  
*****  
  
Keith heard voices echoing through a long, dark tunnel. At first it all sounded like one loud, confused melee, then, gradually, he began to make out individual sounds. Someone was crying. That much he could tell. He didn't know who it was, although he felt he should recognise the voice. It sounded familiar, yet he had never heard it sound quite that wretched before. And in between sobs he could hear his own name. Whatever was wrong it sounded like it was about him. And there were other voices, muted, comforting sounds, although there were signs of distress in those voices, too. Like everyone in the world was crying and he had been left out of the loop. But the world wasn't crying. There were only three voices. Three voices which belonged to his world and they seemed to be crying about him. He puzzled over this for some moments before finally coming to a grim conclusion. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he was already dead. But if he was dead, would he be able to hear those sounds? Would he still be able to feel the pain which was still mounting an offensive on every nerve ending, every joint, every muscle? It still hurt to breathe, too and … he was breathing. Therefore he couldn't be dead. Was he dying? Was that it? He was dying and no-one wanted to tell him? Oh god .. but he still had so much left to do. He had his whole life to live! It wasn't fair! He couldn't die yet! He couldn't just leave his mom, Laurie, Danny, Chris and Tracy. He didn't want to say goodbye to them .. he was too young! Oh please, god, don't take me yet, he prayed, even as his eyes fluttered open and stared blearily in shocked surprise at the scene in front of him.  
  
"Mom …?"  
  
The plaintive sound reached Shirley's ears even above Danny's weeping and Laurie's soft, reassuring voice. Relinquishing her hold of Danny to his eldest sister, she was beside the bed in an instant, leaning over her eldest son, who was staring up at her with fear in his big brown eyes. "I'm here, sweetheart," she said, softly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly. "It's all right, Keith, baby. I'm here."  
  
It took a little time for him to get out the words he feared to say but eventually … "Mom, am I gonna die?"  
  
Now it was her turn to stare at him in shock. He must have overheard Danny or perhaps got the idea from Danny's words - then again, it wouldn't be hard for him to come to this dreadful conclusion if he had woken up to find them all crying over him as had seemed to be the case. Her hand trembled as it touched his face - which, she noted with a moment's relief, was now a normal temperature - and she tried to smile reassuringly. "Oh, Keith, no, no, you're not going to die. You're just going through some pain right now because of the drugs you were given by Joni. But you're not going to die. Do you believe me?"  
  
He didn't know what to think. She looked so sincere, but she could be lying to protect him. He knew his mom too well. She would do anything to protect her children - even the eldest, even though he was all grown up now. Trouble was, he didn't feel awfully grown up at the moment. All he felt like was a naughty child who had been caught doing something wrong - and the whole horrible memory of what had happened the previous night suddenly chose that moment to crash in on him, rendering him completely unable to function as an adult. Oh god … what he had done! What had he done? He'd let Joni … and then she'd … oh god …   
  
Before he could even consider another thought, he had flung himself into his mother's arms, locking his own arms around her waist, burying his head in her shoulder. "Oh mom, I'm sorry," he sobbed, desperately. "I didn't know what she was gonna do! I swear I didn't! I couldn't stop her - I don't know why … mom, I'm sorry. Please don't send me away! I didn't do it on purpose, I swear! You know I'd never do anything like that on purpose - I'm sorry!"  
Shirley was completely unnerved by this. She hugged Keith as close as she could, hearing his terror and desperation, feeling his slight body shudder continuously as he poured out his own horror at what had taken place, what he obviously still saw as his own mistake. Tears poured down her own face even whilst she tried to comfort his, rubbing his back tenderly, murmuring nonsense words into his ear in an effort to get him to calm down. But he was almost hysterical by now, a by-product, she guessed, of his ordeal and the remainder of the drugs and alcohol in his system. She didn't dare turn around to see the reactions of his brother and sister, although she could guess. Their own horror and anguish at what they were witnessing were almost tangible presences behind her. "Keith … " the name came out as practically a sob of its own and she tried again. "Keith, Keith, honey. It's okay. I know. We know what happened. Mr Novak told us. We know it wasn't your fault. I already told you that. Maybe you didn't remember? Keith - sweetheart, please calm down. You're not doing yourself any good getting upset about all this. Keith …"  
  
Her words were having the calming effect she had hoped for as his sobs diminished, then finally died away altogether, until all she could hear were hitching breaths as his already tortured lungs laboured for air. He was limp in her arms, but his grip was still tight around her and she knew he was still conscious, although he was probably terribly embarrassed by breaking down in the way he had. Now all she had to do was explain to him that this was the result of his ordeal and the remnants of the drugs in his system. It was having a debilitating effect on his emotions - making them impossible to control. Not that he had ever been one to hold his feelings in. He had always been sensitive - it was one of the things she had always loved about him - and yet another trait he had shared with his late father. But being sensitive was one thing, this was another entirely. Holding him tightly, she turned her head to regard her other two children, who were standing huddled together in the middle of the room, tears tracks on their cheeks telling their own tale. Motioning with her eyes, she silently pleaded with them to leave the room whilst she tried to undo some of the damage which had been wrought here these last few moments. Thankfully, they took the hint and Danny led the way out, Laurie's hands on his shoulders.  
  
As soon as the door had closed quietly behind his sister and brother, Keith lifted his head, regarding his mother with an expression of shame and guilt. The hazel eyes were not only ringed with dark shadows now, they were red from crying and she dabbed at them gently with the edge of the sheet, smiling sadly at him.   
  
"Made … a real .. fool of myself, huh?" he said softly, trying a wry grin and only half succeeding.   
  
Shirley couldn't help it. She hugged him hard, kissing the top of his head and mussing up the sleek brown hair with her hand. Then she let him go and eased him back into his pillow, keeping a grip on one hand to reassure him. "I think they understand," she replied, at length. "I know I do." She sighed heavily, preparing herself to launch into the reassurances she wasn't even sure she could convince herself of, let alone her son. He looked as weary as he sounded, and he clearly wasn't well yet. Every so often he would wince with pain, despite himself - he was clearly determined not to let her see how much he was hurting and it made her heart contract with love and anguish. "Keith, honey …"  
  
"I know, I know …" he interrupted, quietly. "It wasn't my fault. I got … led into it. She duped me … you … don't have to explain, Mom." He turned his head away from her as he spoke, his voice sounding so defeated that she almost broke into tears again. It was acceptance, but not of the kind she had expected. Although he didn't blame himself for taking the heroin or getting drunk, he clearly held himself responsible for allowing himself to be fooled by Joni into trusting her. It was a trait he shared with his sister, she reflected, ruefully. And she would have to use the same argument to convince him of his own innocence in this.  
  
"Keith, listen to me …"  
  
"Why?" He turned his head on the pillow again to stare straight into her eyes. His gaze was clear and challenging. There were glints of anger in those hazel depths too. Anger at himself. This mustn't be allowed to fester - it could cause untold damage! "Mom, you don't have to tell me what … a dummy I was. I already know that. This … could all have been avoided. I let my … heart rule my head as usual and … look where it got me."  
  
"And can you tell me exactly how you could have foreseen this?" she challenged him in return. "Keith, sweetheart, you are human. And you have all the frailties and faults of a human being - and I love you for them, " she added, stroking his hair, dismayed when he tried to pull away. "Keith, listen to me. I want you to stop blaming yourself for something that is entirely Joni's fault. She was the one who pursued you - and tell me how any young man, with his hormones raging out of control like young men's do - could possibly have said 'no' to her. Besides, as far as you knew you were only going to a party. And Mr Novak and his cameraman were going to be there from what I understand. They should have been looking out for you."  
  
Keith winced at her tone. He could tell that she was not only furious at Joni for pulling this stunt, but was also pretty angry with Greg and Willie too. But it had not been Greg and Willie's fault. After all, he was supposed to be a grown up now. He was supposed to be able to look after himself - not 'let his hormones rage out of control' like she said. "I should've … been sensible," he muttered.  
  
"Sensible?" she echoed incredulously. "Keith, no young man of your age is 'sensible' around girls - regardless of what responsibilities they have and how much common sense they show in other areas. You are not unique, my dear. Not in that respect, anyway. You see a pretty girl and - bam, something shuts off in your brain and another door opens - and I defy you to show me any boy of your age who doesn't behave like that with a girl - especially one who's as pretty as Joni was, and as 'accommodating'!"  
  
"But …"  
  
"But nothing. You acted just as any boy your age would. Keith, you can't blame yourself for being a normal human being who reacted in a normal human way - and I certainly won't allow you to blame yourself for what happened to you. She spiked your drink, honey. And then she injected you with heroin. Twice. You were helpless - you've never drunk before and alcohol can have a very different effect on everyone who drinks it. Obviously you were incapacitated and she took advantage of that."  
  
That's not the only thing she took advantage of, he remembered with deep shame as his mother continued. He tried to smile at her, tried to look as if he was listening and taking in what she was saying, tried too to seem as if it was having the desired effect. But all he could remember now was that pleasant feeling of hands on his body and the way she had moved above him, making him feel wonderful. Yet it had felt so wrong - like he shouldn't be doing it, like he should be objecting. And he mourned too the fact that he had taken no real part in what she had done. It had all been initiated by her, even his body had been hers that night. His body, his mind - what else had she taken which was his? Unwittingly, he closed his eyes against the sudden surge of more tears, trying to block the memory of everything Joni had done to him, everything she had made him do - and found that he couldn't - and he suddenly felt nausea well up as the memories surged over and over like waves crashing violently on the shore.  
  
Suddenly he was pushing away from his mother, yanking off the sheets and stumbling out of bed, intent on getting to the bathroom as his stomach roiled in protest against the memories. But his legs wouldn't hold him and he folded to the floor beside the bed, holding his protesting stomach and retching dryly.   
  
"Keith!"  
  
She was there beside him in an instant, her arms around him, holding him tight as he dry heaved. He curled into her arms, panting heavily as the retching continued. At length, it ceased, but he didn't move, instead leaning his head back into his mom's shoulder, trying to remember how to breathe. She was stroking his hair again and for the moment it felt good to have her hold him like this, protect him as she used to do when he was young. But he knew they couldn't stay there, knelt together on the floor. For one thing, he was beginning to grow uncomfortable - one leg had curled at an awkward angle underneath his body when he had collapsed - and besides, he couldn't lean on his mother forever. Sooner or later he was going to have to face the consequences of what he had allowed Joni to do. It didn't occur to him that he had already suffered the repercussions of her actions and he still didn't believe that he was not at least partly to blame. It was time to accept responsibility for everything and let his mother know just what had happened the night before - because he knew now that there was one detail that had been overlooked in the telling by Greg. And he had to tell her the whole truth - otherwise he wouldn't be able to live with himself.  
  
As Keith slowly recovered and began to breathe a little easier, Shirley allowed herself to heave a sigh of relief. She had been appalled when he had broken away from her, collapsing to the floor beside the bed as he tried to escape. He seemed so fragile in her arms, almost insubstantial, yet she knew that was an illusion. It was just that he had suffered so badly for so many hours and lacked his usual strength. She could feel him trembling violently and held him tighter. For a moment she wished that she could hold him there forever, protection against everything and everyone. But he would never stand for that. All of her children had an independent streak - she supposed they got that from her. It was one of the things their late father had told her he had loved her for. How she missed him and his guidance now. But she was still here and she was going to give her son all the love and support he needed - despite what he might say.  
  
"Better?" she enquired gently as his quivering eased and he relaxed against her, gripping her right arm tightly.  
  
She felt him nod against her then he eased away from her and managed a shaky grin. It was gone in an instant though and something else entered his eyes. Guilt and - dread? "Keith?" she enquired, softly. "What is it?"  
  
He lowered his gaze, unable to meet her eyes. "I … I have to tell you something, Mom," he managed at last.  
  
Shirley swallowed. As if they hadn't been through enough, there was something else? What could he have to tell her that would make him seem so ill at ease, so obviously frightened of her reaction? "Keith - what is it?"  
  
There was a long moment of silence. In fact, the silence went on so long she wondered if had fallen asleep where he sat. He looked so tired, so drawn.  
  
But a few moments later he took a deep breath and, finally looking up to meet her worried gaze, told her what else Joni had done whilst she had had him under her thrall - and the influence of the heroin. He spared her none of it, but had to look away again as he reached the end of his confession. He couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment in her eyes. The anger with which she must now be regarding him. His mother didn't speak at first when he had finished and he sighed sadly. That was it, then. He had failed her so badly that she couldn't find the words to tell him how she felt. Breaking free of her grip on him, he tried to struggle to his feet. His legs felt like jelly and he wasn't sure they would hold him, but he held onto the bed for support and slowly rose, fighting the dizziness which started to assail him as he did so. He would have fallen again but for the support of the arms which suddenly wound around him, helping him crawl back into bed. Then the sheet and bedspread were spread over him and as he was tucked in, he closed his eyes against the spinning of the room. He groaned and felt a hand on his forehead, then a voice asking him, "Keith, honey, are you all right? Do you want something to drink?"  
  
Actually, he did feel terribly thirsty and he nodded. He kept his eyes closed, though, both as defence against the dizziness and because he still wasn't ready to face his mom. He felt very much like disappearing into a dark hole and never coming out again but the bed remained solid beneath him, no obliging holes opening up in which he could hide and before very long he felt his head lifted and a cool glass placed against his parched lips. He gulped the first few mouthfuls of the water. It was cool, refreshing and so sweet to his dry mouth and bruised throat - sore from all the retching earlier. Then he heard a voice telling him to slow down and take it easy or he'd be sick again and, ever mindful of his mother's advice in these matters, he did as he was told. He tried to hold the glass himself but his hands were shaking so badly that his mom maintained her grip on it and he subsided, letting her take care of him, still unable to face her.  
Eventually he had drunk his fill and he shook his head when she asked if he wanted any more. She let go his head, placing it gently back on the pillows. Then he felt her move away slightly and heard the clink of the glass as it was placed on the nightstand. He swallowed, hard. There was a deathly quiet.  
  
As she set the glass down, Shirley tried her best to compose herself. She felt sick inside. And incensed. If she had been furious before, now she was practically ready to erupt with rage. Not content with getting her son drunk and shooting him full of heroin - almost killing him in the process, that little shrew had then practically raped him as well.  
  
She felt an unreasoning desire to tear the girl limb from limb and never mind the consequences - poetic justice for what she had done to Keith - what she had inflicted on him by way of the agony he had been forced to endure over these last few hours. What she had done to his body - violating it with drink, needles and herself. And what she had done to his psyche. For this was something else which had happened to him, not at his request, nor at his own volition, for which he felt immense guilt. When he had made his confession, pouring his heart out to her, his eyes had looked fearful - almost as if he expected her - his own mother - to abandon him here and now; walk away, too disappointed in him to stay. He was still feeling it now. That was why his eyes were closed, why he couldn't face her. Yet the person she blamed for all of this, the person who was ultimately responsible for everything that had happened to her beloved son had made her escape. She had tried to ruin a young man's life in every way she could - thinking only of her own selfish desires and not seeing him as a person at all. And here he was, her eldest, her rock in the hard times, the son she could always depend upon to come through when the chips were down, the one who had taken his father's death like a sock to the gut yet had helped her comfort the younger ones in the family - here he was, brought to this wreckage of a human being because of one vile girl's actions. Oh Keith …  
  
"Honey .." Her voice broke as she spoke. This wouldn't do. She had to help him regain his strength - the strength of character he had always possessed - and she couldn't do that if she sounded like she was falling apart herself. "Keith. Look at me."  
  
He had lain back in bed, flinging his arm over his eyes, shading them from the light. Hiding himself away. She put her hand on his arm, shaking it gently, not trying to force it away from his face, but just letting him know she was there. "Keith. I need you to look at me, sweetheart. I need to talk to you."  
  
She knew what was going through his mind - she knew her children so well and her eldest was broadcasting so loudly his fear and anguish that she could practically see it bouncing off the walls of the room. She sighed heavily. This was going to take some time.  



	10. Chapter 10

Meanwhile, the search for Max the driver had proved fruitless. Greg and Reuben had followed every lead they had, every avenue, but their quest to locate him had only served to frustrate and anger them further - Reuben especially. Every time he thought about the photograph he had tucked away in his jacket pocket, his simmering fury would start to boil and threaten to bubble over and he was having a difficult time keeping control over it. It was not just a question of finding the culprit responsible for the photos and wresting them and the negatives from him - by force if necessary - before they could find their way to the press. That was, of course, imperative. It was also what those pictures portrayed - what else had befallen the young singer at Joni's hands. Rueben didn't know how he was going to tell Shirley about this - or even if he was going to tell her. How could he? And yet - how could he not? This involved her son, after all. And how was he ever going to be able to look Keith in the face again, as keeper of this particular secret, and what would be Keith's reaction if he ever found out that Reuben knew? It wasn't even as if it was the young man's fault, Reuben reflected, bitterly. The photograph had shown him looking completely stoned in the aftermath of sex. He so obviously hadn't been cognizent of what had happened to him. Under the influence of heroin, it was very likely that all he had experienced had been feelings of utter euphoria and the pleasurable sensations which came with sex without any of the normal, human reactions. He certainly couldn't have partaken willingly - and that was part of what was causing Reuben's smouldering rage. This was statutory rape. Keith hadn't been aware of what was happening and had not participated kowingly - indeed, had been unable to prevent what had happened because of the influence of the drug. Reuben had known the family for several years now. Knew how they had been brought up. They were all decent, wholesome children. And despite the reputation enjoyed by their lead singer as both a normal red-blooded teenager and his status as a teen idol, Reuben knew that Keith had never actually had sex. For one thing, there was his age to consider, which was a big factor. For another, despite his raging hormones, he was a very sensible kid who had been brought up to respect women - that had been drummed into him by his mother and his younger sister. He would never dream of going any further with a girl than maybe second base - and for him, that had been okay. Besides, the girls he dated were what Reuben would class as 'nice' girls - and one didn't pressurise 'nice' girls - even had Keith been the type to pressurise them, which he wasn't. Reuben was pretty sure that Keith had been willing to wait till he found the special one - at some unspecified time in the future. He wasn't dumb enough to believe the young singer would wait till he was married - that would be asking too much of him, but above all, Keith was a born romantic, constantly falling in and out of love. And to him, sex would have been a precious gift to share with the girl of his dreams. Something of which Joni fell far short.   
Reuben sighed, heavily, as he and Greg made their way back to the bus. He felt like such a failure. First of all his client had been given spiked drinks, then drugged, then the girl had practically raped him, and all the while someone had been taking photographs to sell to the press. If those actually got out into the media, it would not only ruin Keith's wholesome image, but would destroy the Partridge Family's successful career. Most of their bookings came from family owned or family orientated places who would balk at hiring a group with a singer who had acquired a reputation for drug taking and sex. Especially at such a young age. And as their manager he should have been able to prevent all of this from happening. He felt entirely responsible for what had happened to Keith. Watching him suffer through the first agonies of withdrawal from heroin - regardless of how little he had been given - had been horrendous. The kid should never have had to go through that. And watching Shirley's agony as she held her son through his pain had been just as excruciating. If he had been taking care of things like he should have been then neither of them would have had to go through any of it. And now here was one more thing to endure. The possibility that pictures of Keith caught in the act might be plastered all over the newspapers. God, it made him so angry!  
  
"You okay, Reuben?"  
  
He had been so lost in his own misery and wrath at the situation that he had practically ignored his companion. Now, Greg's words finally reminded him that he was not alone. He glanced toward the film maker. Novak looked just as miserable as he felt, and he reflected rather ruefully that although both he and Shirley had laid the blame firmly at his door, they couldn't entirely blame Greg. After all, Joni had obviously pulled the wool over his eyes - just as she had done with the entire family. Even Laurie had been fooled - and she felt culpable for not realising the truth earlier It occurred to him at this point that there was an awful lot of guilt floating around about all this - and it was obvious that Novak was feeling a hefty portion of it himself.   
"Yeah," he finally replied. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just wondering what we're going to do if we don't find your friend the bus driver and his pictures."  
  
"I swear to god, Reuben, I didn't know he was the kind of guy who did this kinda thing,." Greg said, earnestly. "I mean - it defies all decency. He was watching Joni do all that she did to the kid and instead of putting a stop to it, helping Keith out, he takes pictures?!! I've been in this business a long time and I thought I recognised every kind of rat - but he takes the cake."  
  
"Well, we've got to find him," stated Reuben grimly. "We've got to get to him before he has a chance to sell those pictures and ruin my clients. And it's not even just about ruining them professionally. Keith will suffer personally if this gets out. He won't be able to hold his head up again. He's a sensitive kid - and having those pictures in the press will just about kill him."  
  
"You really care for that family, don't you?"  
  
Reuben stared at him for a moment, then, "Care? Yes, of course I care! They're like my own family. And I'd do anything to protect them. Anything!"  
  
"I can see that. And I'd …" Greg broke off as they reached the corner of the road where the bus was parked, his eyes drawn to the door of the vehicle, where he could see a figure kneeling underneath the driver's column, obviously searching for something. "Reuben!" he hissed. "Look! It's Max!"  
  
Reuben saw red. That was the only way he could describe it later. The saying had never meant much to him before, but it did now, as his rage suddenly ignited, flaring up into a flame of such vivid intensity that his entire vista was tinted by the colour scarlet. His blood surged in his ears and his heart started beating hard. He felt like a bull about to rage into an arena and before he was even conscious of it, he had started moving forward with such speed that everything around him became a blur. He had only ever moved this fast once before in his life - when his unit had been bombed in Korea and they had had to run for their lives. And now he was running for someone else's.   
  
*****   
  
Laurie and Danny had wandered aimlessly after leaving Reuben's suite. They had not exchanged two words since being shocked into silence by Keith's outburst. It had been truly awful to see their elder brother reduced to such a state - totally distraught; his emotions laid bare by the influence of the heroin and alcohol with which he had been plied. Both were feeling pretty distraught themselves - and helpless. It seemed that, despite their desire to help, Keith and their mom were pretty much going to have to go through everything alone. It hurt so much to see him like this - hurt even more than watching him endure hour after hour of unremitting pain, and that had been bad enough. Danny's hatred of Joni had not abated either. In fact, witnessing his brother break down in that way had only served to bolster it. And Laurie, despite her best intentions, was feeling much the same way toward the makeup assistant.  
  
Wordlessly, they made their way into the elevator, both instinctively seeking an escape from the whole ordeal and both feeling guilty about their ability to escape when Keith couldn't. A few moments later they found themselves in the foyer of the hotel. The mid-morning sun streamed through the large picture windows, its bright rays sending little tendrils of light to warm the darkest corners. Unfortunately, it did nothing to warm their heavy hearts.   
  
Laurie sighed heavily and shivered, despite the heat. Wrapping her arms around herself, she glanced toward the revolving doors through which guests and visitors were both entering and departing, going on with their lives totally oblivious of the trauma which had blighted the Partridge Family.  
  
"Are you okay, Laurie?"  
  
She glanced down at her brother's anxious question. He was regarding her with a worried expression on his freckled face, his hand half-extended as though to reach out to her. As their eyes met, he pulled back slightly and shrugged, a half-smile wiping away the frown. "You looked - kind of far away, " he explained.  
  
"I'm fine," she assured him, heavily. It's just - well - it's - you know …"  
  
"Yeah," he said, equally dispiritedly.  
  
"Oh, Danny, I can't stand to see Keith in such pain - and I've never seen him so upset before. I just want to do something to help him, but I can't. I don't know how to get him through this or even if he wants me - us there!"  
  
Danny patted his sister's arm comfortingly. "I know, Laurie, I feel the same. He's probably pretty embarrassed about breaking down in front of us like that - and I'm gonna make a point of never reminding him about it."  
  
That was quite an admission coming from the brother whose whole life seemed to be geared to teasing his elder brother and sister - when he wasn't teaming up with one of them to get the other! It brought a sad smile to Laurie's face and she glanced away for an instant to compose herself, her eyes alighting on one of the large windows and the world beyond. There, a familiar figure had just broken into a run which would put a world champion to shame. "Danny? Isn't that …?"  
  
"Mr Kincaid!" he exclaimed, noticing their manager at the same time. His eyes grew wide with astonishment as their manager disappeared from sight and as one, they hurried to the doors, in an effort to find out just what was going on and why Reuben Kincaid should be in such a hurry.  
  
The sight which met their eyes on their arrival in the street stunned them into complete silence for a moment. Reuben Kincaid - their mild-mannered, easygoing manager was half in-half out of Greg Novak's bus, trying to choke the life out of some guy. The man he was attacking was struggling in vain to wrest Reuben's hands from his throat and was already turning a strange colour. Greg was desperately trying to pull Reuben off the other man, and having no success, and there was a lot of yelling - mostly coming from Reuben himself, none of which they understood as he screamed obscenities and threats at his victim. A crowd of people - drawn by the noise and the sudden, inexplicable violence was gathering around them but Reuben was oblivious to their presence as his hands slackened on the man's throat and instead, he slugged him in the face, not once, not twice but half a dozen times - rocking his head back and forth like a puppet's. There was blood everywhere now, coming from the man's nose and mouth and trickling down his chin, staining his white shirt and Reuben's hands. But the Partridge Family manager seemed totally unaware of the consequences of his actions as he continued pummelling his prey, bringing up his knee for a short, sharp jab in the man's groin. The guy's face went pale beneath the blood and he started to choke. But still Reuben wasn't letting go and he wasn't stopping.   
  
Laurie and Danny could only watch in stupefied horror as the uncharacteristic behaviour continued, getting more and more out of hand. Greg was still trying to prise Reuben away from the guy, despite receiving a few stray jabs himself, and eventually his persistence paid off as he got a good grip on the shoulders beneath him and jerked backwards, his momentum bringing Reuben along with him. The manager was not to be daunted however, and with a snarl of fury he launched himself at the supine figure once more. This time, however, someone from the crowd - very tall, very muscular - prevented him from reaching his intended victim and Greg flung his arms around Reuben, stopping the situation from escalating out of control.   
  
"Kincaid! Stop it!" he yelled, shaking the man in an effort to calm him down. He appraised the crowd quickly, then met the eyes of the man who had interfered sufficiently to stop the beating. "Thanks," he panted.  
  
"No problem," drawled the other man. "You wanna call an ambulance and the police?"  
  
"No!" Greg replied quickly - maybe too quickly as the other man's eyes narrowed. "No, it's a - private argument. That guy works for me and he's … been stealing. He stole something very - erm - precious from my friend here and - well, he just kinda lost it for a minute there, is all."  
  
The other man narrowed his eyes suspiciously, glancing back down at the bleeding, panting body on the ground. "I don't know," he said, slowly. "This guy looks like he's just about had it. That was a pretty bad beating he took and he might wanna press charges - or maybe he'd want someone to do it for him."  
  
"No, no," Greg almost smiled. "He won't be pressing charges. Believe me - if anyone should be reporting the incident to the cops it should be me - and my friend here. Look, the guy just lost it - it's something to do with his family and - well, you know how protective guys can get about their family."  
  
"This guy hurt one of 'em?"  
  
Novak nodded slightly. "Yeah - in a manner of speaking."  
  
Max's rescuer nodded back. "Right. Well, in that case, I understand. Man's first priority is his family. Someone hurts one of 'em - well, he's gotta expect to be punished."  
  
Greg breathed a sigh of relief, satisfied that his half-truths had been believed and had served to avoid a confrontation with the cops - something none of them wanted, especially now. "Right," he said.  
  
"Well, I'll leave you people to it," said the man, straightening up from his cursory examination of Max. He turned to the already dispersing crowd. "Okay, folks. Show's over. Nothing else to see."  
  
As the crowd slowly scattered, Greg exhaled heavily and he sagged a little. Reuben had ceased his struggle to free himself and was now standing, quiescent, within the film maker's grip. "If I let you go, will you leave Max alone?" Greg hissed in his ear.  
Reuben nodded. Greg let him go and stood back whilst Reuben regained his composure, smoothing down his jacket and rubbing at his bruised knuckles.   
  
"I don't suppose before you half-killed him, you managed to ask Max where the rest of the pictures and the negatives were, did you?" enquired Greg pointedly.  
  
Reuben looked at him. He was breathing hard, looking a little the worse for wear himself and also looking a little shamefaced at his own actions. "I … " he began. "I … "  
  
"Mr Kincaid?"  
  
His mortification was now complete. With a moan, Reuben hid his head in his hands as Danny appeared beside him, accompanied by Laurie. Both were regarding him with expressions of open-eyed wonderment and it was patently obvious that they had witnessed his vicious attack on Max, who was still lying on the ground, groaning and recovering from the assault. "Danny," he managed, peering through his fingers at the two of them, "go away."  
  
"But, Mr Kincaid …!"  
  
"Danny - I said GO AWAY!"  
  
"Are you all right, Reuben?" Laurie's concerned voice cut through the remaining vestiges of his anger and he focused on her for a moment. She was standing behind Danny, her hands on his shoulders and kept casting glances down at the injured man on the ground, then glancing back at him. Her lovely face was puckered in an anxious frown and there was open curiosity in those bright green eyes.  
  
He could tell that she was dying to ask what had happened and why he should launch such a malicious assault on someone but there was no way he could tell her. Bad enough that he had seen the picture. He still had to decide whether to tell their mother about it - and he certainly wasn't imparting any information about the rest of Keith's ordeal to his brothers and sisters. There were some things that even the closest of family members should never know about a person and this ranked up there as one of the highest.  
  
"I'm fine, Laurie," he replied, at length, glaring at Danny as if that alone could shut him up, prevent him from prying any further. He should have known better.  
  
"So why were you hitting that guy?" demanded the redhead. He was nothing if not tenacious, that was for sure. He'd met pitbulls with less gumption!   
  
"That's between me and him," he told the middle Partridge.  
  
"But you nearly killed him!"  
  
Reuben was beginning to think there was going to be another attempted murder when, seeing his expression darken, Laurie wisely decided it was time for them - or at least Danny - to back off. Whatever had been going on it was obviously something in which they had no part or in which Reuben didn't want them involved. And although they sometimes made fun of their manager, plagued him by teasing him and playing pranks, he was a man you could respect if for nothing more than the fact that he had always striven to protect their best interests. They all knew they were more than just an 'act' to him. He was practically part of the family. And hadn't he been there with their mom throughout Keith's ordeal in his own suite? Yet another example of his protective instincts shining through. So it didn't matter why he had done what he had done just now - although she had a funny feeling that it had been because of them. He deserved to be left alone - not interrogated by special agent Danny Partridge!  
"Danny, come on," she said, pulling him backwards, away from Reuben and Greg. He tried to stand his ground, persistence being one of his more annoying traits, but Laurie's hands were digging into his shoulders and her nails were beginning to dig right through his shirt and into his skin.   
  
"Ow!"  
  
"Well, come on then!" she demanded. "Leave Reuben alone for a while. He has better things to do than answer your dumb questions!"  
  
He spun to face her, staring up at her in shock. "Dumb questions?" he sputtered. "Dumb questions? Laurie - you saw him! He was punching that guy's lights out! I didn't even know he could swing a punch like that! Hey, I didn't even know he knew how to fight! I want to know what he was doing - what that guy had done to tick him off …"  
  
"Maybe he asked too many questions!" she replied, pointedly. "Danny, leave Reuben alone. It's none of our business. And if it is then he'll tell us when he's ready."  
  
"Aw, you're no fun!" he muttered, and walked back to the hotel, leaving her standing in the street with a bemused expression on her face. She exchanged glances with Reuben and then, with a shrug, hurried after her younger brother.  
  
"So, you wanna burn the pictures and negatives now, or do you want to wait till later?"  
  
Reuben turned as Greg's voice interrupted the reverie he had fallen into with the kids' departure. Then his mouth fell open as he surveyed what Greg held in his hand. "You ..! You got the pictures?" he exclaimed in astonishment.  
  
"I got the pictures," came the smug confirmation. "And the negatives."  
  
"How …?"  
  
"Well, while you were busy trying not to explain everything to the kids, I was busy 'persuading' Max that it might be better if he came clean and gave us everything he had - before I let you loose on him again, this time in the privacy of a dark alley, to which I would not be averse to driving us all in the bus if need be. He had them in his bag. He'd come back to look for the missing picture before he turned them all over to a tabloid he'd promised 'exclusives' to."  
  
"Well, I'll be damned," breathed Reuben, shaking his head. "Novak, I didn't know you could be such a devious bastard."  
  
"Learned that lesson a long time ago," came the cryptic response. "And the negatives are all here as well."  
  
Reuben frowned suddenly. "How do we know he gave us all of them?"  
  
"Well, it's easy enough to find out. The negatives are all numbered. We go through to make sure none are missing, match them up with the pictures and - hey presto!"   
  
"You're a genius!"  
  
Greg shrugged. "I try," he said, immodestly. "We better get on that right away - and tie our friend up whilst we do it. Don't want him slipping away until we've know what we have."   
  
Reuben glanced down at the injured man and a pang of true remorse swept over him. "I - didn't mean to hurt him," he said, slowly. "I don't know what came over me - I … I never did anything quite that crazy before. I guess I just … lost control."  
  
"Happens to the best of us," said Greg philosophically. "Reuben, you said yourself that the Partridges were like family to you. You've just watched one of them go through hell for several hours, then you find out something else that happened to him and that someone who could have helped not only didn't, but threatened to make the situation worse. It's no wonder you 'lost control', as you put it. You were just protecting your family … like I told the guy who rescued our 'friend' here."  
  
"Yeah … " Reuben nodded, but he couldn't control the tremors which had started to run through him in reaction to what he had done. As they helped Max off the floor and into the bus, Reuben winced at the damage he had inflicted on his victim. And then he shuddered at the thought of what they were now going to have to do - look at all the negatives and all the pictures just to match them up. He wasn't sure he was ready to deal with this, but it was the only way he could protect the family - especially young Keith. And if it was the only way then he could and would deal with it. And then he would go and throw up.  



	11. Chapter 11

Shirley, sitting at the bedside of her eldest, sighed heavily. He still hadn't spoken two words since his breakdown earlier. "Keith, honey, talk to me," she begged him. He lay as he had done for the last 15 minutes, left arm slung across his face, his right hand clenched into a fist beside him. That it kept tightening was the only way she could tell that he was still experiencing pain, because she certainly couldn't see any other signs. He seemed to be internalising it all now - almost as though he thought he deserved to suffer, for what he had allowed Joni to do to him. She bit back a sob of anguish. Her son had been through so much, and now his first sexual experience would be forever tainted. She didn't know what this would to him psychologically. She wanted to believe that he would shrug it off, that he would simply put it down to experience and go on. But realistically she knew this was never going to happen. He hadn't been ready. Shirley knew that better than she knew anything else. The thought might have crossed his mind a few times, but he would never have acted upon it. Not yet. Perhaps not for a while. Despite all appearances to the contrary, her son was a 'good' boy, an innocent at heart who still had a lot of growing up to do - and he was sensible enough to understand that. And now his innocence had been taken from him, wrenched away without a thought, and without his permission or even real participation. She reflected once more that if Keith had one big fault it was that he could be too sensitive. He felt things very deeply. This would affect him for a long time. Joni had played a power game and she had certainly proved her power over Keith. Rape. It was all about power. She knew enough about it to recognise that. And she feared for him now as he lay there, hiding away from the world, from her, and quite likely from himself. Gently, Shirley stroked the back of his arm, letting him know that she was there; that, despite what he may think, there was no condemnation of what had happened to him. And she racked her brains trying to think of something to say which would bring him back to her.  
  
At length, her touch and silent reassurance had the desired effect - partially at least as he slowly removed his arm from over his eyes, letting it flop listlessly back to his side. His eyes were still closed, though and his face looked pale and pinched, the dark shadows standing out starkly in the bright sunlight. Shirley bit her lip. She wasn't sure that this acceptance of her presence was a good sign of a bad one. It could mean that he had decided to let her in, to talk to her, try to sort it all out in his own mind. Or it could just be that he had resigned himself to what had occurred, therefore allowing depression to claim him and take him down its dark, uncertain path.  
  
"I'm still here," she said, softly, stating the obvious. "I'm not going to leave you, honey and I'm not going to let you blame yourself for any of this."  
  
"It was my fault." The fatalistic words were the first he had spoken in such a long time that the sound of his voice startled her. The words themselves made her heart sink. It took a moment for her to recover and then she stroked his hair, smoothing it out against the pillow.  
  
"No, Keith, it's not your fault. If you're guilty of anything, then it's bad judgement where Joni's concerned. But you're not the first to show bad judgement and you certainly won't be the last. Lord knows, I've shown enough of it in the past and I'll certainly show it again in the future. But we're only human, honey. We all make mistakes about people. What you have to do is realise that and put it down to experience." He opened his eyes. She was dismayed to see the desolation in those dark hazel depths. "Keith …"  
  
"Mom … " he began, then choked back a sob and tried again. "Mom, I … it's just … I … I can't …"  
  
"Ssshh," she soothed him as his voice tailed away, the unspoken words of culpability and shame hanging in the air between them. "Sweetheart , what Joni did was wrong. Very wrong. All of it. She shouldn't have taken advantage of your trusting nature, but she did. There are people out there who do things like that. But that doesn't make any of this your fault and it doesn't mean you shouldn't still trust people, and despite what you might feel, you shouldn't be ashamed of anything that occurred." She smiled tremulously as she gazed at him. He looked so sad, so stricken and she wanted so desperately to make everything all right for him again. "Honey, I'm not going to tell you that this is going to go away or even that you'll forget about it. It happened. There's no getting away from that. You feel things deeply, I know, and I love you for that. It's what makes you who you are and I wouldn't have you any other way. But don't let Joni make you into a victim. Yes, it happened and you're hurt in a lot of ways and I can't make that go away, even though I want to - so much. But the more you brood about it, the more you blame yourself, the more credence you give to that woman and she doesn't deserve that. I wish you could be angry at her, sweetheart, even hate her, but you don't have it in you right now. I don't expect you to get over this in a few minutes, or even a few days - but I want you to remember what I've said. Don't let Joni make you into a victim, because you're not a victim. You're my sweet, handsome, talented, wonderful son whom I love very much. I want you to remember that."  
  
He was still staring at her. She had no idea if what she had just said had made any kind of impact at all - or if it would do so in the near future. She recognised, although didn't want to admit, that he may need professional help to get over this - which he would see as just one more failure on his part. She wanted to scream out her frustration and anguish to the sky, but kept a tight rein on her emotions. Keith was having enough difficulty with his own - he wouldn't be able to handle hers as well. She could tell that he was still fighting back pain, too, for as she watched, his face blanched even whiter - which she hadn't thought possible - and his fists clenched in the sheet. He was biting back a moan, not wishing to upset her further, and his head tilted back as the pain surged through him. Then it was over and he was panting for breath, his breathing erratic and laboured. She put her hand on his cheek as he turned into the pillow and brushed back the stray tendrils of hair which had fallen over his face. It was all she could do. She could give him nothing to ease his physical pain and there was seemingly nothing she could say to alleviate his mental anguish either.   
  
They stayed like that for some time, Keith accepting his mother's touch and taking some small comfort from it and Shirley just feeling relieved that at least this time he hadn't tried to push her away. Eventually, he drifted off into a restless sleep, and she remained seated beside him, gazing at him with such love in her heart that at times it threatened to overwhelm her. When he started to twist and turn, muttering under his breath, she tried to calm him. It was a nightmare - she had been expecting this to happen, although she had been hoping that it wouldn't. He tried to fight her off, but he was too weak and eventually, he subsided, to lay quiescent and shaking with reaction. Shirley didn't need three guesses as to what he had been dreaming about and cursed Joni anew for what she had done to Keith. Very uncharitably, she hoped that the girl would just disappear and never be heard from again - and that she would never be able to do this to anyone else.   
  
*****  
  
Reuben was sickened by what he saw in the pictures as he and Greg sorted through and counted them. By the time they had reached the end of the roll of film, his anger was threatening to flare up and erupt once more. But he had been appalled by what he had actually done to Max earlier - even though he couldn't help feeling that the guy deserved it - and so he fought hard to keep his rage under control. But it was hard. So very hard. As he went through the photographs, which portrayed Keith's ordeal in every repugnant, sordid detail, he felt like killing someone. The picture they had first discovered didn't even begin to depict what Joni had done with the kid, nor how truly out of it he had been. Even from the distance from which the picture had been taken, Reuben could see the glazed eyes, the lax features and the apathy with which his young singer was enduring Joni's assault. It was patently clear to him that although Joni was using and thoroughly enjoying the kid's body, Keith just wasn't there. He was gone. Blanked out. And it grieved Reuben to observe the invasion, to see firsthand the theft of the kid's innocence. He found the whole thing truly abhorrent.  
  
"What are you gonna do with these now we have them all?" Greg enquired quietly as they counted the last one and Reuben dropped it distastefully into the small pile in front of them.  
  
The manager regarded him for a long moment, then, "I'm going to burn them," he said, dourly. "The pictures, the negatives - everything. I'm going to watch them curl up and shrivel and then once they're ground down to ashes, I'm going to scoop each and every grain up into a plastic bag and flush them down the nearest toilet." That would take care of the pictorial evidence, he thought. Would that he could flush away Keith's memories so easily. The young singer was going to have a hard time with this once he remembered and Reuben knew that none of them could do anything to help.  
  
Greg almost smiled at Reuben's words, but the ferocity with which the other man had spoken told him the man was deadly serious. Instead, he nodded approvingly. He hadn't enjoyed looking at those photographs any more than the Partridge Family manager had. The extent of what Joni had done to Keith was evident in each and every one of them. She had thought nothing of using him for her own pleasure - however unresponsive he might have been. It was revolting. He felt disgusted and dirty, just from having handled the evidence of the rape, and he desperately wanted to wash his hands free of the grime that now tainted them. He knew now how Lady Macbeth had felt when she had tried in vain to wash her hands free of the blood. He knew that, likewise, he would never be free of the memory of what had taken place in his van. That it would forever defile this place he used to call 'a home away from home'. What Joni had done had been depraved, inexcusable and completely unforgiveable. He was a great believer in karma, however, and he knew that she would eventually get hers. "I'll get the matches," he said. "And, Reuben?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm sorry. About Joni, about Keith - everything that happened here. I'm sorry. I should never have trusted her. Should have known better. The little witch - I … I don't know what to say to convey how I truly feel about all of this."  
  
"I know what you mean," said Reuben, bleakly. "Now that we've seen all the evidence for ourselves I feel - I don't know. Dirty, like I'll never be clean. And we're just witnesses after the fact. What that poor kid must be going through - or will go through once he remembers what she did to him. I … I can't even begin to imagine …"  
  
"Yeah, I know." Greg sounded tired, defeated, and, Reuben, realised, he actually felt that way himself. Now that they had found Max and the pictures, and he had decided what to do with them, it was almost as if he had run out of steam. But as his thoughts returned to the photographs and their repulsive contents, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. Now they had to find the one responsible for all this heartache. The one who had taken such wanton advantage of his young charge. And this time he didn't know if he would be able to hold off from committing murder.   
  
*****  
  
Once at the hotel door after their encounter with Reuben, Greg and the mystery man their manager had beaten up, Danny had turned back, intent once more upon discovering the reason for Reuben's uncharacteristic behaviour. Laurie had grabbed the back of his t-shirt just in time and literally dragged him, kicking and screaming, through the hotel's doors. Now, he wrenched away from the the grip she had on him and turned to face her, his complexion even ruddier than usual. "Why'd you drag me away?" he demanded angrily. "I still want to know what Mr Kincaid was doing!"  
  
"I know," she replied, calmly. "And obviously Reuben doesn't't want to share his motives with us."  
  
"Well, if it's something involving us - or Keith, " he added, hitting the nail right on the head without realising it, "then we should be told! Besides, I've never seen him act that way before and I want to know what's gotten into him!"  
  
Laurie sighed, heavily. "Danny, if Reuben had wanted us to know what he was doing and why he was doing it, then he would have explained it at the time. It's best if we don't get involved."  
  
"But we probably are!" he insisted, making a move to get past her and head outside again.  
  
She blocked his movement quickly, putting her hand on his shoulder again. "Danny, look, if it's something to do with us or Keith then Reuben will tell us - eventually. And if it isn't then it's really none of our business. I know it's frustrating, but if you go our there and bug him again then he really is going to get mad and maybe he'll beat you up!"   
  
The redhead hesitated a moment, considering this, then he backed off, nodding slightly, and folding his arms. "You're right," he conceded, reluctantly. "He looked pretty mad - and I wouldn't want him to do to me what he was doing to that guy." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then, "Didn't he seem awfully familiar to you, though?"  
  
"Who?" Laurie frowned, puzzled.  
  
"The guy Mr Kincaid was beating up!" Danny snapped, exasperated.  
  
She shrugged. "No, not really … although … come to think of it, yes, you're right, maybe I have seen him before - but where?"  
  
"I don't know - but - hey, let's go have another look and maybe we can find out!"  
  
He was past her in a flash and she barely snagged his arm in time, stopping him in his tracks. "Oh no, you don't!" she snapped. "Danny, leave them alone! Let Reuben deal with whatever it is and let him calm down! Do you really want to get beaten up like that guy?"  
  
"Well, no .. but …"  
  
"No buts!" She held on firmly as she dragged him to the elevator. As the car doors opened, she practically shoved him in and then quickly pressed the button for their floor. The doors closed on his objections and she heaved a sigh of relief as the elevator started to ascend.  
  
"So, where are we goin' now?" he enquired, sweetly. He was leaning against the back of the elevator wall, his arms folded in front of him again and was regarding her with a mocking grin.  
  
"You can take that look off your face for a start," she said, primly. "I thought we'd go back and see if Keith and Mom are - well - you know."  
  
Dropping his cocky facade, Danny shuddered. "Laurie - I - I don't think I want to go back in there right now. Couldn't we just - I don't know - do something else for a while?"  
  
"You don't want to see Keith?" She was staring at him with her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Danny …"  
  
"Oh, and I suppose you do want to go back in to see him - well - you know, suffering?" He sounded defensive, but more, she could sense the distress underlying his words and reluctantly, she conceded that she didn't really want to back into Reuben's suite. The image of Keith crying bitterly in their mother's arms, being so distraught that he didn't even seem to recall that they were there still haunted her. She had never ever seen him react that way about anything before. And it had made her own heart ache - she so desperately wanted to comfort him, to let him know that everything was all right. Yet at the same time she wanted to escape the room, not see him that way. She wanted to remember him as her sometimes annoying, sometimes downright devious, but always dearly loved elder brother - her tormentor, her buddy, her co-conspirator and her best friend. She didn't want to have her memories of him tainted by that image of him as a broken, terrified human being - it hurt too much.  
  
"No," she said, at last, in answer to Danny's question. "No, I don't want to see that. But Danny - well - what are we going to do? I mean, I can't just sit in my room, either, and we can't just do nothing."  
  
"How about something to eat?" he suggested. His eyes were alight with hope - and she knew that all he wanted right now was a bit of normality. Being upstairs on the same floor as Reuben's suite would be too close to their brother and the ordeal he was currently experiencing. Going to the restaurant on the other hand would put them far enough away that they could pretend, at least for an hour or so, that nothing was wrong. And right now it sounded really good.  
  
"You're on," she said, feigning noncholance. "Let's see what's on the menu …"  
  
"And let's order the most expensive thing and charge it to Mr Kincaid!" he finished with a grin.  
Laurie even managed to laugh as she pressed the elevator button again just as it reached their floor. The car started to descend and each of them inwardly heaved a sigh of relief that they wouldn't have to face Keith and their mother for a while yet.  
  
*****  
  
Keith had been asleep for a while now. Shirley had moved from the bed to sit in the chair beside it. Her touch had calmed him as he experienced recurrent nightmares, and she felt exhausted. She leaned back in the comfy piece of furniture, determined to stay awake and wait for her son to wake up again, her hand still stroking his arm, making sure that he knew she was there beside him. But she felt so tired, and as she relaxed into the soft cushions she felt her resolve weaken until finally, her eyes fluttered closed and she too fell asleep.  
  
An hour later, Keith woke up again. It seemed he was destined to spend the day wavering between sleep and wakefulness - neither one being the victor yet both fighting for a claim on his body. It was tiring him out. As his eyes became accustomed to the daylight, he glanced around the room and finally his gaze alighted on his mother, fast asleep in the chair beside him. She looked tired, too, he noted. In fact, she looked exhausted. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes and tear tracks on her face indicated that she had been crying - probably over him, he guessed. He felt a wave of guilt overcome him at causing his mother so much heartache. As if it wasn't enough that he had allowed Joni to get him drunk then drug him up, he had then allowed her to violate him. He felt cheap and dirty and all he wanted to do was take a shower and scrub until he felt clean again. He also felt very weak, like his whole body had been waging a war against him and it had won. His muscles and joints still ached although the pain had lessened considerably from earlier when he thought he was going to die from it - when he had actually wanted to die. And his lungs felt a little clearer now; he could at least inhale and exhale without that awful burning accompanying every breath although there was some residual pain. Mostly he just felt raw and abused, like someone had been using his body as a punching bag.   
  
However, the physical effects of the alcohol and heroin were nothing compared to the emotional hurts he was suffering. He felt guilty at causing his mom all this grief and worry; for allowing Joni to use him as he had, and for putting everyone through the distress this had obviously caused them. And, more, he felt soiled and used and he wanted to climb into the nearest hole and never come out. Maybe if he did then everyone would be happier - because he was just a big problem to them all now. A problem that would be better gone from their lives. Oh sure, they might miss him to begin with but they would get over it and surely, comparing the short term unhappiness of his departure with what he had caused for them today, it was better for them in the long run. He had really messed up. In every way. And yet his mom said she had forgiven him - had she said that? Or had he dreamt that? His memory was so foggy. He half-remembered some of her words but it was more the intent and meaning behind them that he had recognised. Disappointment, anger, hurt, but even with all that there was still love. How could that be? How could she love him now? He was a failure on every level. And he hated being a burden to his family. They didn't need that. They were a great group of people and he loved them dearly. Better for them then if he not be here. He didn't know exactly where he was going to go or even if he wanted to be around without them - maybe he'd get lucky and a truck would knock him down or he'd just fall into the river and drown. However it happened he had to get out of here. But first of all, he needed a shower - he needed to feel at least partway clean again - although she would forever contaminate him. Her scent, her actions would forever taint him. He would never be truly clean again - just one more reason to leave …  
  
As his thoughts meandered, he tried to suit action to words by slowly pulling back the covers and easing himself out of bed. Sitting up was probably one of the most difficult things he had ever done - and it was something he normally did every day. His muscles screamed as he pulled himself upright, and his heart started to beat frantically as he slowly, agonisingly, forced his body out from under the sheet and stood up. He had to hold on to the headboard with both hands as his legs refused to support him at first and he stifled a groan as his body protested the strain. Then he lifted one foot and planted it firmly on the ground. His legs wobbled, threatening to spill him onto the ground, but he was determined to do this. So he planted another foot on the ground and then repeated the action, eventually having to let go of the headboard and hold onto the furniture instead. He eventually made it all the way across the room, feeling like he had run 20 miles. His vision was blurring, his legs were trembling violently and his heart was beating so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. His lungs were heaving for each and every breath and at one point he missed one, and nearly choked before he managed to get into the bathroom. Then, breathing heavily, he hung on grimly to the towel rail and closed the door behind him before reaching across to turn on the shower. He noticed that the room was wavering in and out and that everything was becoming hazy. Distantly, he wondered where the fog was coming from. He shook his head to clear it, which was a bad idea as the entire room spun crazily before him and nausea welled up. He fought it manfully, still resolute about his intention, but conceded that he didn't have the energy to remove his pajamas - which, he realised, were not his own but didn't have the inclination to try to figure out where they had come from nor how he had gotten into them. So, he climbed into the shower dressed in his nightclothes and allowed the hot water to cascade over him, washing away his crimes, but unable to feel truly clean. Viciously, he rubbed at his skin, trying in vain to scrub away the guilt and shame. Tears leaked from his eyes, mingling with the water spilling down his ashen face, and he sobbed as he realised that he could never be truly clean no matter what he did. When his eyes caught sight of the two holes made by the needles he cried anew. He leaned into the wall, banging his hand against the tiles until it was bloody, then slowly crumpled into a heap in the shower basin, huddling against the wall, allowing the water to flow freely over him, washing away the blood, but unable to do anything to cleanse his soul. And as the water cooled, so the blackness veered in from both sides, until all he saw were little pinpricks of light - and then finally they winked out and he lapsed into oblivion.  



	12. Chapter 12

Shirley awoke with a start. There was silence in the room and she yawned and stretched before glancing over at the bed. Then she was out of her chair and fully alert, screaming Keith's name at the top of her lungs. Silence. Panic-stricken, she looked around the room, frantically searching for some place where he might have gone. Then she heard the sound of the shower and noticed the closed bathroom door. Heaving a huge sigh of relief she strode over to the bathroom and knocked loudly. No answer. "Keith!" she called. Maybe he couldn't hear her knocking. There was still no answer. Truly frightened now, she still hesitated before going in. She didn't want to disturb her teenage son in the middle of a shower but what if something had happened? He truly wasn't strong enough to be even on his feet let alone in the bathroom alone. She prevaricated for several moments before finally making up her mind. If there was any embarrassment then she could apologise later. His wellbeing was more important than his modesty at this stage. Besides, it was nothing she hadn't seen before - and he was her son, after all! Thus resolved, she opened the door and peered through the steam …. and gasped in utter horror as she found him lying in a sodden, unconscious heap on the floor of the shower enclosure. "Keith! Oh my god!" Hurriedly, she ran forward and turned off the shower and the pulsing stream of water stopped, to be replaced by a steady 'drip … drip' until gradually, even that, too died away, leaving just the seemingly lifeless, thoroughly soaked young man and his frantic mother alone in the silence.  
  
"Keith …" Shirley's breathy voice broke the stillness as she knelt down, pulling her son into her arms., unmindful of his sopping wet condition. The chill of his sodden body seeped into her clothes, his hair dripping rivulets of water down her neck and running down her back. He was cooling rapidly as the water chilled on his skin and his breathing was once again ragged and unsteady. She couldn't even begin to fathom how he had made it this far without collapsing beforehand and cursed herself for falling asleep, leaving him alone to face and deal with his demons. "Keith, honey, come on, you have to wake up. Sweetheart? Can you hear me? Keith?" She shook him slightly as she pleaded with him, stroking the sopping wet hair with desperate tenderness. There was no response to her fearful entreaties, however, not that she had expected one, but she wasn't sure if she could get him back to bed without assistance - either from himself or someone else. But, first things first. As his body cooled, so he was beginning to shiver uncontrollably and so, gently disengaging herself from him, she leaned her son back against the shower wall and reached for the remaining towels which hung on the rail nearby. He remained unconscious and unaware as she quickly stripped him of his saturated pajamas, wrapping the huge bathtowel around him to preserve his modesty. He didn't stir as she grabbed another, smaller towel and dried the excess moisture from his long, dark hair, nor when she rubbed his body through the larger towel, drying him off and trying to stimulate some heat in his cold skin at the same time. He was unresponsive to her voice as she spoke to him, murmuring reassurances that she knew he couldn't hear, but still prayed would bring him back to her, aware that she was talking as much for her own sake as for his, filling the awful silence with words.  
  
Eventually, she was satisfied that he was dry - the dark hair was still gleaming with moisture but it was damp now rather than dripping wet and his poor, abused body was wrapped snugly in another of the large towels. Shakily, she stretched out one hand to feel his cheek and felt relief surge through her at the normalcy of his temperature. Now came the task of getting him from the floor of the shower back to into bed. Although he was slim and light compared to a lot of other boys his age - something that concerned her, especially when she saw how much energy he poured into their performances - he would still be no lightweight for his mother alone. But determination and fear seemed to lend her strength as she manoeuvered him upward, slinging his left arm around her shoulders and clinging onto him around his trim waist with her right arm. Thus they laboriously made their way out of the bathroom and back toward the rumpled bed. It was a slow process - although a lot quicker than his lonely journey to the bathroom earlier and Shirley was breathing heavily from the exertion by the time they reached their destination - where she unhooked his arm and eased him onto the bed, pulling the covers over his naked, trembling body. Slumping down beside him she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her swiftly beating heart before leaning over him to push his damp hair away from the drawn, grey face. She fought back tears as reaction to the last few moments threatened to overwhelm her and stared down at him, worriedly. She could imagine what had been going through his mind to compel him into the shower. She had read of similar reactions in girls who had undergone sexual assaults. Her heart ached for his pain - for the guilt and shame he so obviously felt, and she yearned to do something - anything - to help him. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, stroking his pallid cheek with her forefinger, feeling the smooth, cool skin beneath her touch and marvelling at the life she felt throbbing below it. "Keith, I love you, honey. You have to know that. I love you and will do anything to help you through this."  
  
Still no response. She wasn't sure whether his weakness had overcome him in the shower or if perhaps he had slipped voluntarily into unconsciousness as his mind started to process everything that had happened and he had been unable to deal with it. She guessed at a combination of both - and mourned the loss of the boy she had known. For he would never be the same now. He was forever changed. Something had been taken from him - his trust, his innocence, his joy of life - and those were things which could never be returned. They had been stolen - and all that was left in their place was shame, degradation and a deep remorse which was not even his place to feel. She had tried to convince him that none of this was his fault, that none of it could have been helped, that the blame was entirely Joni's, that she was the one to bear the burden of guilt, but she couldn't take away the utter contempt in which he now held himself for all that he had allowed Joni to do. And it could destroy him. It could destroy all of them. And finally, unable to help herself, she burst into tears once more.  
  
*****  
  
Reuben and Greg had destroyed the photographs as they had vowed - and Rueben had located a suitable toilet down which to flush the remainder of the evidence. They had left Max locked up in the bus, his hands and feet tied together and a gag on his mouth. They were going to deal with him later. He had tried to protest as his feet were bound with cord from some of the curtains hanging at the bus windows but Greg had let loose with a stream of colourful invectives which had surprised even Reuben. He had accused the man of being a con artist, a selfish bastard out for his own ends, and had threatened to report him to the police for being an accessory to the rape of a minor. That had silenced the former bus driver. What he wasn't aware of was that the police were the last people Reuben and Greg were going to bring in on this and he didn't know that they had Keith stashed in the hotel instead of the local hospital, for secrecy's sake as well as the sake of the young teen idol. He had apologised profusely for his misdemeanour, and begged them to let him go, but Greg had refused and then had gagged him to prevent further comment.  
  
After destroying the pictures, the two of them had conducted a search for Joni. But she proved as elusive as Max had been before they had chanced upon him at the bus. Knowing that lightning couldn't possibly strike twice in the same place, they had returned to the vehicle and the hotel feeling fairly dispirited. Greg had commented sourly that he wished he had held on to her when he had found her with Keith that morning and regretted giving her the opportunity to make good her escape - it seemed that Willie had been right when he had predicted that she would be impossible to find. He guessed that she would have gone off to make a 'buy' and was probably off alone somewhere getting high. But Salt Lake City was a big place and they couldn't hope to scour it all in one afternoon by themselves.   
  
"Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll overdose," Reuben said, unkindly. "But if we do find her or she turns up, and I get my hands on her, I won't be responsible for my actions."  
  
Greg smiled, nastily. "You won't be the only one. I'd like to kill her myself for what she's done."  
  
"Mr Kincaid! Mr Kincaid!" Any further conversation about Joni and her eventual fate at their hands was halted as the two youngest of the Partridge brood ran up to them, flinging themselves at Reuben in a frenzy of excitement.  
  
"We went on the caterpillar - twice!"  
  
"… and we ate cotton candy …"  
  
"And Mr. Willie won us a giant dolphin on the shooting range …"  
  
"… and he got a huge bear on the hammer thing …"  
  
"Whoa! Whoa! Kids! Kids, calm down!" Reuben begged as they simultaneously and with great glee related the tale of their day at the amusement park. They were practically leaping all over him, grabbing his hands in order to get his attention and clinging on to his legs, nearly toppling him over in their enthusiasm. He was getting more than a little flustered and it was almost a relief when Willie himself rounded the corner of the hotel, carrying a huge blow up dolphin beneath one arm and - yes, a giant teddy bear sporting a rather colourful if garish bow tie beneath the other. He sauntered across to them, bearing his prizes, a large grin plastered across his face and stopped in front of the manager, who now rather disconcertingly had a small Partridge attached to each leg.   
  
"Hi, Mr Kincaid! Boss!" he greeted them jovially. "Well, here's two young Partridges, delivered, safe and sound as promised. We had a great day, huh, kids?"  
  
"Oh yeah! Mr Willie took lots of photos of us and …"  
  
"… he gave us rides on the donkeys and .."  
  
" … he umph!"  
  
The clamour of childish voices was effectively silenced by a large Kincaid-shaped hand clamping itself over the two children's mouths. Then Reuben directed a mock glare in Willie's direction, trying to hold on to his two charges as they struggled ineffectually within his grip. "I've never seen these two kids so hyper!" he complained. "What've you been feeding them? Pure sugar cubes and caffeine tablets?"   
  
Willie shrugged. "Hey, you wanted them to have a good time - and that cotton candy was just begging to be eaten … course, maybe three helpings might not have been the wisest idea …"  
  
"Three helpings of cotton candy?" echoed Reuben, his voice going up several octaves as he glanced from Willie to Chris and Tracy and back again. "You let them have three helpings of cotton candy? I was right! You were feeding them raw sugar! Oh, their mom's gonna love this! They're probably gonna be up half the night now!" As he spoke the words, he was hard put to maintain his mock indignation. His inadvertent reference to Shirley had reminded him of the dire situation he had left her in when he had offered to take the kids for the day - and all the events since. He felt a pang of guilt at having left her all alone to deal with Keith's withdrawal, and then he recalled, somewhat belatedly, that Laurie and Danny had been present to witness his fight with Max. That had been hours ago. Had Shirley been alone since then or had they returned to the room? And what had happened to force them out in the first place? Because he was sure - as sure as he was of anything in his life - that nothing short of an apocalyptic event could have driven Laurie from her mother's side and Danny was nothing if not tenacious when it came to taking care of his family. Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming compulsion to return to his suite, to find out what exactly had been happening, how Shirley and Keith were faring and whether they needed anything. He wanted to be there for them as he had been at the beginning of this entire thing.   
  
"Uh, Reuben?"  
  
The soft voice intruded on his thoughts and he half-turned to find Greg pointing downward toward the two kids. "Wha …?"  
  
"I think you're choking them - hadn't you better let go?" the film maker suggested blandly.   
  
Sure enough, his hands had accidentally tightened and the two children were making frantic gasping noises and struggling desperately to escape. Mortified, he let them go and they sprang back, rubbing their mouths and noses and staring at him reproachfully. "Oh - ah, sorry, kids," he apologised, somewhat lamely.   
  
"We're glad you didn't go with us to the amusement park, Mr Kincaid," Tracy told him, in no uncertain terms. "We had much more fun with Mr Willie!"   
  
"Yeah," he said, caustically. "I'll just bet you did. Look, kids, why don't you and Willie go and have a nice dinner in the restaurant …"  
  
"Dinner?"  
  
"In the restaurant?"  
  
Two pairs of childish eyes lit up with anticipation at this unexpected treat, then disappointment crashed in with equal suddenness.   
  
"What?" Reuben demanded. "What is it?"  
  
"We don't have any money, Mr Kincaid," explained Chris, mournfully. "Mom or Keith or Laurie usually take us for something to eat."  
  
Reuben rolled his eyes, then, with a huge, theatrical sigh, dug in his pockets and pulled out a wad of bills, which he gave to Willie. "Why don't you go with Willie here - seeing as you like him so much," he added, pointedly. "And have a meal on me."  
  
Now they were gazing at him as if he'd lost his mind. He couldn't win with these kids. "On you?" echoed Tracy disbelievingly.  
  
"Really?" chimed in her brother, with equal doubt.  
  
"Yes, on me," he repeated, with not a little exasperation. "Gee, anyone would think I never paid for meals around here!"  
  
"Well, you don't," Tracy informed him.   
  
"But we'll take it this time!" Chris announced, as he grabbed Willie with one hand and Tracy grabbed him with the other and they dragged him off to the hotel under mock protest all the way.  
  
"Well, now that the kids are taken care of, what are you going to do?" demanded Greg, impressed by Reuben's ploy and his act. He pretended not to care about this family, and yet, when it was threatened he became a lion, protecting his young. He was certainly a study in differences - a real dichotomy.  
  
"I'm going to see how Shirley's getting on," Reuben replied, in a quiet but deadly voice. "I need to find out how Keith is and - well, I'm worried about them." He finished, somewhat defensively.  
  
"Hey, calm down, man," temporised Greg, holding up a placatory hand. "You don't have to justify yourself to me. Look, why don't you do that and I'll take care of our 'friend' in the bus and then maybe I'll mount another search for Joni, see what I can find out from the 'seedier' side of the city so to speak."  
  
Reuben nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea If you find out anything …"  
  
"I'll be sure to come and tell you. Don't worry."  
  
*****  
  
Shirley glanced toward the door as she heard it open and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Reuben enter. He smiled reassuringly at her and strode across the room, his eyes riveted on Keith's senseless form. "How is he, Shirl?" he whispered as he reached the bed.  
  
She returned his smile with one of her own, but he could see the strain beneath it. "Oh, he gave me a bit of a scare earlier when he tried to take a shower alone," she responded, the hint of a tremor in her voice.  
  
His eyes widened. "He tried to take a shower?" he echoed, stupidly. "Why?"  
  
Shirley narrowed her eyes as she regarded him. "Oh, Reuben," she sighed, sadly. "Why do you think?"  
  
The penny dropped and he immediately regretted asking the question. "Oh. Right. Well … is he … okay? I mean - he didn't hurt himself, did he?"   
  
"He collapsed in the shower," she told him, shuddering as the memory of finding her son's drenched, pitiful form lying on the floor of the shower returned to haunt her. "He - er - was a little uncooperative in the effort to get him back to bed."  
  
"Didn't help at all, huh?" Reuben could tell that she was trying to make light of what had obviously been a frightening experience for her and smiled gently. "Well, that's Keith for you. Expects us all to carry him. You know, sometimes I wonder why we have him in the group. If it wasn't for the fact that he's the singer, the hit songwriter and he looks so great - well, we might have to put Danny up front!"  
  
That brought a genuine smile to Shirley's face as she contemplated the spectacle. Having lived through that once, she had no desire to go through it again. Danny had been feted by a magazine a few years before and it had gone to his head ever so slightly. And whilst she considered all of her children stars in their own right, Shirley had to admit that without Keith, they would be just one more average cabaret act - in fact, they might not have an act without him. "Danny loves all the attention, that's for sure," she agreed, trying not to picture life or the group without Keith - that had been a nagging fear throughout all of this. The problem was, right now, none of them knew what his future would hold nor how he would recover from all of this - or even if he would recover.   
  
"Yeah," drawled the manager, a speculative expression on his face as he, too, considered the consequences if Keith was unable to return to anything like normality after all this. "It's probably just as well it's Keith who's the bigger draw - Danny would be unbearable if he were the teen idol - not that he's old enough," he amended. "But can you imagine how big his head would get? And you think he's money mad now - if he was a teen idol, he'd be coming up with even crazier schemes to market himself and make his fortune!"  
  
"He might very well end up the next Howard Hughes," reflected Shirley, her smile fading as she returned her attention to her unconscious firstborn. "Oh, Reuben, what are we going to do?"  
  
The Partridge Family manager was suddenly very glad he had come back to keep this lady company. She looked and sounded exhausted, and it was obvious to anyone that she had been through the wringer over the last few hours. It was about time she relaxed, or at least let someone else take the burden for a while. She had carried it alone for far too long. Stepping forward, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, alarmed to discover she was trembling. "Don't worry, Shirl," he said, giving her a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "Everything will be all right. We'll make it all right. We'll get him all the help he needs and we'll make sure that he comes out of this okay. It doesn't matter how long it takes or what we have to do - everything will be okay in the end. I promise."  
  
It was what she wanted - needed desperately - to hear. She knew, realistically, that Reuben couldn't possibly know if Keith would be all right after this, nor if anything they did for him would help get him through, but somehow, his assurances that they would do their very best to succeed helped. His presence here helped. It was a balm to her aching soul and she was so very glad to have him back beside her again. She had missed his calming company more than she had wanted to admit. Now she could relax a little and let someone else take some of the burden from her shoulders - although she wasn't about to leave her son's side. Keith needed her. And while he needed her she would be here.   
  
"Why don't you get some rest?" suggested Reuben. "You look a little tired."  
  
She shook her head. "No. Oh, it's not that I'm not tired," she clarified, "I feel like I could sleep for a week, but I need to be here with him. I want to be here, Reuben."  
  
"Sure, sure," the Partridge Family manager said soothingly. "But I'll be here if you need me. You don't have to do this all alone, you know."  
  
Reaching over her son's supine form, she took Reuben's hand and squeezed it tightly. "I know," she said, gratefully, "and you don't know how thankful I am to you for that." Then, frowning as a thought suddenly occurred to her, she went on, "Reuben, where are the kids?"  
  
"The kids?" he echoed, blankly. "Oh, the kids! They're with Willie the cameraman in he restaurant. Not that they should eat much," he went on, ruefully. "They had a lot of cotton candy at the amusement park."  
  
Shirley quirked her eyebrows at him and half-smiled. "Oh Reuben, Chris and Tracy could eat their weight in cotton candy or any sweets and still have room for a king sized meal! Uh - who's paying, by the way? Isn't the restaurant a little pricey?"  
  
"Paying?" He was aware that he was beginning to sound like a parrot. "Oh, paying! Well," he admitted, somewhat sheepishly, "Me. I'm paying. I mean, I gave Willie some money to buy the kids a meal."  
  
"You did?" Shirley regarded him incredulously. "You paid for the restaurant?"  
  
"Yes, I paid for it!" He was practically spluttering with mock indignation. "What? Does no-one think I'm capable of paying for anything? What is wrong with you people?"   
  
Shirley's lips trembled. Reuben in full flow was pretty amusing - even in such dire circumstances. And god knew, she needed a laugh right now. "Well, Reuben," she began, "you have to admit …"  
  
"Admit what?" he demanded. Was that real huffiness in his voice? She decided enough was enough, and smiled, squeezing his hand again.  
  
"Nothing, Reuben, nothing. Actually, I'm very grateful for your caution with finance. It's stood us in good stead over the years and the Trust Funds for the kids were a great idea - as were the investments you made for us."  
  
"Yes, they are paying dividends, aren't they?" he said, somewhat mollified by her praise. "Now, you do know I only invested the money in safe stocks and shares, don't you?" he enquired. "I wouldn't take any chances with the kids' futures - or yours," he added. "I'm trying to look after you guys, you know."  
  
"I know," she said, gently. "And you're succeeding very well, Reuben. I know that we have the best person looking after our interests and … I couldn't have gone through this without your support. Thank you."  
  
Now he looked embarrassed and squirmed uncomfortably. "Aw, Shirley - it's nothing. You know … I mean … "  
  
"It's not nothing," she told him, firmly. "I am so glad you're here. It gives me someone to talk to."  
"Someone other than Danny?"   
  
She shrugged. "Danny's a wonder sometimes and he does act awfully grown up, but seeing his brother like this has really thrown him for a loop. He was so upset, Reuben. I've never seen him so distraught over anything before. And poor Laurie was trying so hard to be brave and comfort us both - but it's hard on the kids. Which is why we have to keep Chris and Tracy away from all of this as long as possible. They wouldn't understand - they're too young; and this would terrify them. Besides, Keith was distressed enough when he realised Laurie and Danny were here and they're closer to him in age. He couldn't stand having Chris and Tracy see him like this."  
  
Reuben nodded. "I agree," he said. "I'll go down in a bit and try and talk Willie into looking after them a bit longer. Oh, he's okay," he continued, hurriedly, to Shirley's worried look. "He took them to the amusement park this afternoon while we searched for … Joni." It was a white lie, but one he did not regret. He had made the decision sometime earlier to keep from Shirley the discovery and ultimate fate of the pictures of Keith. He didn't know how he was going to tell her about the rest of it, though. "He's okay, Shirley, honest," he repeated, trying to reassure her.  
  
She looked doubtful and a little hurt. Obviously she wasn't too pleased about his handing the kids off to yet another of Greg's entourage, especially after what Joni had done to Keith, but Willie had seemed okay and he had taken the kids to the amusement park and obviously gotten them back safely so she guessed she could trust him. Nevertheless … "Reuben, I'd be grateful if you could go and check on them," she said. "Maybe I'm being paranoid, but - well, I'd feel happier if I knew they were safe.   
Maybe Laurie and Danny could look after them for the evening - it would give them both something else to focus on other than Keith's problems."  
  
"That's a good idea." He eyed her speculatively. "Has anyone got you anything to eat today, by the way?" he probed.  
  
She shook her head. "I wasn't hungry …"  
  
"Not hungry?" he echoed. He sighed. "Shirley, you have to keep your strength up. Please tell me you've at least had something to drink."  
  
"Drink?" She stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "I …"  
  
Reuben threw his hands up in exasperation. "I don't believe it!" he cried. Without further ado, he rose from the bed and strode over to the phone. "I'm going to call room service and order us some food," he said. There was a decisiveness in his tone with which she didn't dare argue and so Shirley remained meekly seated on the bed, looking mildly perturbed at this turn of events. She wasn't accustomed to being dictated to like this, but all the same, it felt good to have someone else take control just for a while.  
*****  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the food arrived, and both adults tucked in. They both discovered that they were ravenous and the large plate of sandwiches which Reuben had ordered for them was soon divested of everything but crumbs. Shirley actually felt a little better for having eaten and silently blessed Reuben's insight and insistence that she eat something. She was so thankful that he was there, taking some of the pressure off her, thinking about the mundane, everyday things that her own brain couldn't cope with at present, so fully focused was she on Keith.  
  
Keith didn't stir throughout the room service delivery - which was taken at the door by Reuben who didn't want to allow anyone access to the room - and continued sleeping until well into the evening. As the sun set and the shadows lengthened, bringing semi-darkness to the room, he began to thrash fitfully. Shirley, seated beside him on the bed, stroked his forehead tenderly, trying to soothe his restlessness, although he didn't awaken and seemed oblivious to her presence and her touch. He was caught in the throes of his own personal nightmare, where the events of the night repeated themselves in an endless, sadistic loop, replaying over and over again, sending the same terrible images tumbling incessantly through his mind. No matter where he turned or how much he protested, escape proved to be impossible and he was forced to re-live each and every moment, swamped with guilt, drowning in shame and horror.  
  
Shirley watched as her son endured his own personal hell once more, her helplessness increasing as the words she uttered seemed to have no effect and her touch was seemingly ignored. Reuben offered his silent support, sometimes standing behind her, hands on her shoulders as she clasped Keith's hand gently in her own; sometimes moving quietly around the room, straightening things up, opening windows, closing curtains on the swiftly falling dusk. He had made a brief trip to the restaurant as Shirley had requested to discover that Laurie and Danny had already joined Willie and the kinds. Taking Laurie aside, he had informed her of her mother's wishes regarding Chris and Tracy and she readily agreed, torn as she was between the desire to go back and see her older brother and her fear of watching him suffer again. She returned to the table at which they were all seated racking her brains for a plausible excuse to give them for the absence of their mother and Keith, only to find that Danny had beaten her to it and had told them - in answer to that very question - that Mom and their elder brother had gone to the venue to check it out and were doing some late shopping, and probably wouldn't return until the two of them had gone to bed. This seemed to satisfy the two youngest Partridges - although Chris eyed his older brother with suspicion for a few moments.  
  
*****  
  
Laurie and Danny had spent most of the afternoon in the restaurant. It was fairly empty and the staff had allowed them to stay, figuring that if they needed the table for the rush later they could always ask the two to leave - or order something else to eat. As it happened, the airport traffic had subsided, leaving the hotel fairly empty so the restaurant was not busy and they were left pretty much alone. Occasionally, they ordered a couple of cokes or 7-ups but it was late afternoon before they saw any other activity in the place. They were a little surprised to see Willie being towed by the two youngest of the brood, but when he saw them he had made a beeline for their table and asked if he could join them. Then he had proceeded to inform them of Reuben's generous (and apparently uncharacteristic) offer - which had Danny's eyes grow wide with astonishment. Even Laurie commented on the unheard of generosity. It was just as well Reuben had been upstairs and not present to hear these further slurs on his character and the inference that he was a miser.  
  
"Mr Kincaid's obviously sick," remarked Danny, shaking his head sadly at the prospect. "Maybe we should call a doctor."  
  
Laurie smiled. "Danny, just because Reuben's finally sprung for dinner doesn't mean he's ill!"  
  
"Well, can you think of any other explanation?"  
  
"Maybe he's just being generous?" she suggested, mildly.  
  
"Generous?" Danny spluttered in astonishment. "Mr Kincaid? Generous? Laurie, those two words don't even belong together in the same sentence!"  
  
"Well, I think you're being a little unfair," she told him reproachfully. "And mean."  
  
"Yeah, Danny, you're being mean," chimed in Tracy, gleefully. Chris nodded, agreeing with his sisters, and Willie just looked on, amused by the entire thing.  
  
Danny glared at her - which had no effect at all as she just stuck out her tongue at him in response. Sighing heavily, he turned back to his older sister. "Laurie," he said, in a tone of great patience he reserved for particularly stupid people, "you misunderstand me."  
  
"Really?" She regarded him with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Yes, really. When I infer that Mr Kincaid is mean or stingy, I'm not saying it in a bad way."  
  
"Oh?" Her eyes were dancing with amusement. She couldn't wait to hear this one! "What other way is there to say it?"  
  
"I am merely pointing out that Mr Kincaid is very frugal with his money," he explained, in that superior tone which made her want to whack him one. "A trait I can certainly admire and understand, being a man of means myself and as careful as I am with my money."  
  
"Careful?" Laurie echoed scornfully. "You're so careful with your money you have a combination lock on your piggy bank!"   
  
"Exactly! So, you see, I can understand Mr Kincaid's desire to protect his finances - which is why I find all this very unsettling."  
  
His sister shook her head and giggled.  
  
"What?" he demanded querulously. "What did I say?"  
  
"Oh, Danny," she said, when she could control her laughter, "sometimes, I think Mr Kincaid's right and you really are a 35 year old midget hiding inside a kid's body!"  
  
Danny would have hit her, but his parents had always impressed upon him how wrong it was to hit a female (punching Gloria Hickey in the arm was completely different and a very intimate act for him), so instead he settled on an evil-eyed glare, which just had the effect of sending her into fresh peals of laughter and did nothing at all for his ego. He spent the rest of the meal in a sulk, plotting the downfall of one Laurie Partridge, but the mini-argument had had the desired effect of taking their minds almost completely off the situation in the suite upstairs.  



	13. Chapter 13

Reuben, having no idea that his frugality was being discussed in such detail, had settled down into the chair at Keith's bedside. Shirley had refused to move from her position at his side and remained seated on the bed, her right hand caressing the wan face. He seemed to have settled a bit since his nightmare earlier and she prayed that his present dreams were more pleasant.  
  
The enforced inactivity was making her drowsy, however, and she yearned for sleep but was loathe to succumb, recalling what had happened last time she had allowed herself some respite. She did not want a repeat of that and so she remained where she was, staring into the drawn, pallid face, mourning at the loss of the sparkle she had always found there, missing the dimpled smile and desperate for some way to make everything better for her eldest son.  
  
Keith returned to semi-awareness slowly and remained there, reluctant to face the world and a future made bleak by his failure to prevent what had happened. Muted voices invaded his consciousness and, despite his best intentions, he strove to listen to what they were saying, already sure of the condemnation he would hear.  
  
He was in for a surprise. His mother's voice was audible above the rumble of traffic from the street below, the distant hum of the air conditioner and sound of his own raspy breathing.   
  
" …Keith, honey, I don't know if you can hear me, but … oh god, I just hate seeing you this way. This is all my fault. If I hadn't let you go off to that party - if I'd only insisted that someone else go with you … but I didn't want you to think badly of me; didn't want to put a wedge between us. Now … now I think I would rather have risked driving that wedge between us rather than see you go through all this pain, all this torment. This is my fault. Your father and I brought you up right, we brought you up to respect girls - and … I know you've had a lot of girlfriends, sweetheart, but - well, you're not ready for an experienced women like Joni - especially not someone as devious as she was. Maybe that was our fault as well - perhaps we protected you kids too much. I don't know. I only know that I blame myself for this. I shouldn't have let you go - I should have done something more to protect you. It wasn't up to you - you're young - too young … oh Keith, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry … Please forgive me …"  
  
Oh god, his mom was crying. His mom was crying - about him. He felt like bursting into tears himself. But she had it wrong. How could it possibly be her fault when he was the one who had gone to the party? He was the one who had allowed Joni to spike his drinks and he was the one who had allowed her to inject him with heroin and make out with him - even though, he recalled, hazily, he hadn't done anything to invite her to do that, hadn't actually participated - in fact, couldn't recall very much about it at all. He was beginning to feel very confused. Then he heard another voice - calming, reassuring - Reuben.  
  
"There, there, Shirl, it's all right," the manager was saying. "It's not your fault. You weren't to know what that little jezebel was up to. No-one did. Not even Greg. Shirl, Shirl, please, don't cry. Keith will be okay, I promise. We'll make it all okay. And if anyone's to blame, then it's me. I should have looked after him better. After all, I'm the manager. I should have had these people checked out more thoroughly. The girl has a history, and no-one told us about it. If I'd been more thorough then this would never have happened and he wouldn't have to go through this. Just seeing him in this pain - well, it hurts me too. And it's unfair that he should have to go through all of this, that you should have to suffer right alongside him just because of her. Shirley, I promise - we'll find her and we'll make her pay for what she's done …"  
  
Now Keith was even more bewildered. Reuben was blaming himself now? How many people were culpable for what had happened? And why was no-one blaming him? Surely he was the one who had allowed it all to occur? Surely he should be the one who was reprimanded, condemned and castigated? Oh god, this was all getting too complicated for him to figure out. It needed a clear head and the ability to form coherent thoughts, which he was incapable of doing at present. He felt like someone had beaten him on his skull with a hammer and it was about to split open. The pain was intense, especially on the left side and came in wave after wave, drowning out speech and thought alike. He desperately wanted something to ease the incessant and thunderous throbbing but couldn't seem to get his mouth to work or his eyes to open. Even his face ached. The dim light from the lamp on the bedside table pierced his eyelids, adding a counterpoint to the agony inside his head, and unwittingly, he groaned.  
  
Immediately, the two adults' attention was focused on him. "Keith? Keith, honey?" his mother's voice, gentle though it was, thundered into his aching skull, sending fresh shards of agony piercing through his brain. Sound hurt his ears and he whimpered, softly, hearing his own blood pounding in his head. God, why didn't this torture stop? Why wouldn't it go away? Oh god …  
  
Shirley bit her lip as she gently stroked Keith's arm. An effort to touch his forehead had resulted in a pitiful whimper and a feeble attempt to escape. His fine features were scrunched up in agony and every now and then, little sounds of pain would bubble from his throat, signifying to her that he was suffering immensely. "Keith?" She tried again to gain his attention. "Keith, sweetheart, where does it hurt? Can you tell me?"  
  
It took a long time and obviously a huge effort on his part, but finally, he answered her, although she had to crouch low to hear his reply, whispered in a tortured, hesitant voice. "Head … head hurts …"  
  
She turned to face Reuben, anguish written all over her face. The manager, however, shook his head. "I'm sorry, Shirl," he said, regretfully. "We can't risk giving him anything for the pain., With the heroin and everything, well … we don't know what it could do."  
  
Shirley understood. She really did. It didn't make watching her son endure this new torment any easier, though. She wanted to make his pain go away, but she couldn't. Instead, all she could do was hold on firmly to his hand as he writhed around weakly on the bed. It was evident that he was in increasing agony, however, and, hesitantly, she reached to lightly touch her fingers to both temples, massaging gently. He jerked away from her slightly, wincing, but then allowed her to continue and his tortured expression cleared a little as she worked. Sighing with relief, she watched as his breathing evened out and at last exhausted sleep overcame him once more. As he slipped into morpheus's arms, she removed her hands from his face and covered her own, her shoulders drooping.  
  
Reuben put his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension there and swallowing hard as she trembled violently beneath his touch. "I'm sorry, Shirl," he said, apologetically. "But you know what the doctor said when we spoke to him earlier."  
  
She nodded. The doctor had telephoned them from the hospital, checking up on Keith's condition and reassuring them that he had informed no-one of the circumstances behind his request for blood analysis. The results had not yet been returned to him but he had been concerned that his initial diagnosis had been correct and was almost relieved when Shirley had informed him of Keith's continuing pain and subsequent collapse in the shower. At least it meant that the young man was mobile, even if only barely and his body was still processing the drug. They were good signs - a fact of which he tried to assure the still fearful mother. But when she had asked if there was anything they could give her son to assuage his pain, he had told her 'no' most emphatically. "Any more drugs in his system could be enough to kill him," he had informed her, sombrely, knowing he was scaring her but needing to make the point. "The prescription I gave to Mr Kincaid is for any residual pain which might occur in two or three days time. We have to let the heroin work its way through his system completely otherwise … " he left the rest unsaid but Shirley had already got the picture and after thanking him for his concern and advice, replaced the receiver and returned to watch her son suffer.  
  
Now, she let reaction overtake her. Reuben's solid presence was a comfort but the whole ordeal was beginning to take its toll on both of them. She longed for it to be over - not for her sake, nor Reuben's, but for Keith. Her son. Her firstborn. It was too much to ask him to endure. Too much to expect from a 17-year old whose biggest problem just yesterday had been what to wear to impress a girl for a party. And that girl … She couldn't comprehend how anyone could be so evil, so completely devoid of feeling, so utterly shameless. To knowingly put someone through this - someone so young, so inexperienced … what kind of home did she come from, anyway? What kind of upbringing had led her to do this kind of thing? It was all beyond Shirley's understanding, but now she found that she actually wanted to understand at least, rather than just wanting to kill Joni. The girl had made good her escape, however, blending into the city streets as easily as the wind. It was almost as though she had never existed - and Shirley couldn't help wishing that she didn't.   
  
*****  
  
Greg was hot on Joni's trail. He had made a few enquiries in what he had termed 'the seedier' side of town and now he was headed toward her last known destination. He was no stranger to the world of drugs. He had seen what addiction could do to people. It was a vicious cycle. Once someone started, it was impossible to stop, however, much they might want to. Withdrawal was hell. There was no other way to describe it, and every junkie lived only for their next 'fix'. People, places and possessions meant nothing to them any longer. The only reality in their lives became the drug and the problem of where the next shot was going to come from.   
  
Novak had watched, helplessly, as his own brother descended into the abyss that was addiction, transforming from a bright, intelligent 23 year old to a gibbering, rake-thin wreck of a man who looked 20 years older. His death from an overdose still gave Greg nightmares. He had been the one to find the body. It had not been a pretty sight. His brother's untimely demise had forced him to take a good, hard look at his own life and occasional, recreational use of 'soft' drugs. He had been clean from that day forward and had devoted his free time since to helping others in similar situations to that of his dead sibling, which was how he had encountered Joni.   
  
He had offered her a job to get her off the streets, promised her a new life and a chance of stability if she would stay off the drugs and had been convinced by her promises for about a week and a half. He had been rudely awakened time and time again but had continued to give her chance after chance to redeem herself. Until now. Now she had not only broken the rules, she had shattered them into a million tiny pieces. Her seduction and drugging of a minor made him furious. He would never forgive this particular transgression and although he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do when he found her, he was going to find her.  
  
His search had taken him to the most derelict, forsaken part of town, where he strode amongst abandoned, empty-eyed wraiths. But Greg had seen it all. He was no longer shocked or appalled by the terrible waste of humanity as he searched through the dregs of society to locate anyone who had seen his wayward assistant. He simply asked the questions, listened to the answer and moved on, not bothering to offer sympathy which would not be welcomed, nor make small talk which would be ignored. His trail led him finally to a disused warehouse on the edge of town where he had heard that a number of addicts congregated. It was a 'meeting place' of sorts for the junkies of the town - a place where the drug dealers could come for a few quick sales, make some money and get out with no fuss. The police had long since abandoned any attempts to clean the place up and for every drug dealer they put away another ten or so would take their place. It was a losing battle, and it was getting worse with every passing year. The place was filthy, polluted and squalid. Large brown puddles of odorous liquid lay like blots on the grimy stone flags which comprised the floor of the old warehouse. Timorous voices called out as he passed each foul hovel, constructed from rancid smelling blankets and pieces of cardboard. Here lay the refuse of society, the waste which no-one either wanted nor cared about. This was the true underbelly of the city, where people lived and died in vile conditions, surrounded by their own filth, covered with dirt and the waste from their own bodies. They had long since stopped caring - so why should anyone else?  
  
Greg held his breath as he stepped through the human wastage, unable to even feel sickened by what these people had allowed themselves to become. His destination was in sight - a recently erected, putrid smelling shelter consisting of several pieces of rusted metal held together with pieces of dirty twine. He stopped just short of the temporary home. The gloom made it difficult to see inside and the stench which was coming from within was almost unbearable.   
  
"Joni?" No reply. Well, of course not, he reflected, wryly. Why would she answer him? He had threatened to set the cops on her, hadn't he? "Joni!"   
Still no answer. Not even a sound. Frowning, he drew closer. And almost gagged. The whole place reeked of something foul and decaying. The pungent aroma was almost overwhelming.   
Cautiously, he stepped forward, holding his breath, then exhaled in shock at what he found within.  
  
She lay in a pool of her own waste, obviously expelled from her body in a violent paroxysm. It had probably not been instantaneous and, from the angle in which her limbs were skewed, had been torturous. But drug users lived every day with the risk of overdosing. And that was what had happened here. Joni was quite dead.  
  
Pulling back, Greg staggered over to a more deserted, less repulsive area of the warehouse, gagging and trying to control his reaction at the same time. It took a few moments, but eventually, he was able to get his involuntary reaction to the sights and smell under control and he sagged down against the grime-covered wall, for a moment uncaring about his surroundings. It had been inevitable, he knew. Joni had been a heroin addict for longer than he had known her and the sources from whence addicts obtained the drug were, by their very nature, less than scrupulous. The powder was often mixed with other additives to increase its amount or it would, on occasion be too pure and too strong for even the experienced user to handle. No-one seemed to care that any additions to the drug could kill the customer. After all, there was always another prospective buyer just around the corner.  
  
It was such a waste. Another life snuffed out; the victim of an insidious world where dreams and hopes were exploited and crushed beneath the weight of a chemical substance which wasted the body and warped and destroyed the mind. Joni had deserved punishment for what she had done to the young Partridge Family singer, but she hadn't deserved this - to die a lonely, forsaken death in horrific circumstances in some foul shack. The consequences of addiction could be very high indeed. And for the second time in his life, Greg cursed aloud the dealers of death - those who peddled their narcotics to the weak-willed, the desperate, the dreamers and the unsuspecting.  
  
Darkness had fallen like a shroud by the time he emerged from the stinking warehouse - scene of yet another wasted life. He inhaled deeply of the night air, trying in vain to rid his nostrils of the odious smell and unable to purge his mind of the images which he had left behind; images which continued to assail him as he stood below the night sky with its brilliant, twinkling constellation. He supposed he should call an ambulance - although a coroner's wagon might be more appropriate now, he mused, bitterly. He owed it - if not to Joni, who could no longer appreciate it - at least to his own conscience. He would give her a decent burial. He knew her own parents would not. They had moved on; disowning her, lavishing all their love and affection on their pet dog, who would never disappoint them the way their own flesh and blood had. A burial in a decent plot was all Greg could do for her now. It was over. Her life had been extinguished like so many others before her. It was time to get back to the living. Time to take care of those who could be saved.  



	14. Chapter 14

Shirley and Reuben held vigil over Keith throughout the night. By mutual consent and at Reuben's insistence, they traded off - a few hours for his mother, a few hours for the manager. Reuben had been emphatic that Shirley get some rest. Besides, as he pointed out to her, he was here now. She could relax and let him take care of things. The words had almost stuck in his throat as he tried not to glance down at the evidence of his own failure to do just that. But Shirley had smiled sadly and had agreed - somewhat reluctantly - to sleep on the sofa. She had made him promise, however, that he would wake her in a few hours.   
  
The Partridge Family manager had no intention of keeping that promise, of course. He had even taken the precaution of crossing his fingers behind his back when he had spoken the words. He was nothing if not superstitious. And more bad luck was just what they did not need right now.  
  
As the hours passed and Keith slept on, Reuben sat in reflective silence. Studying the young singer, he could barely believe the events of the past day. It was difficult to conceive how such a catastrophe could occur within such a short space of time. Twenty four hours or so before, they had been carefree and excited at the prospect of having their tour filmed. No-one in the family had even suspected that by the end of the night, one of their number would be in such a dreadful condition, least of all the young man himself. Reuben had been thrown some curve balls in his time as a manager, but this one was a doozy. And it was made worse by the fact that he was so personally involved.  
The Partridge Family was comprised of six very individual, very different human beings. Shirley, the benign matriarch of the group with her warmth and wisdom. Laurie, pert and attractive, a devout believer in causes. Danny, the livewire, whose avaricious tendencies equalled and occasionally surpassed Reuben's own. Chris, with his easygoing nature and ready smile. Tracy, whose sharp eyes missed nothing. She was going to be a heartbreaker when she got older, Reuben could tell. And then there was Keith, the eldest child, lead singer, songwriter and Romeo extraordinaire. Unofficial leader of the group, talented, good looking and a born romantic - which was how, of course, he wrote all those great songs about love. He fell in love at least twice a month and his entire family regarded his reputation with the girls with affectionate amusement - as they did Danny's money-making schemes, Laurie's passion for her causes and the scrapes which Chris and Tracy got into.  
  
But as individual and exceptional as they all were, they shared one very important trait. An unconditional love for one another; one that transcended the petty squabbling, the misdemeanours and the occasional flawed schemes. When one was hurt, they all hurt, and if there was trouble, they banded together so fast and so completely that there was no separating them. They were all highly protective of one another. They might be able to hurl insults at their own brothers and sisters or scheme against them, but woe betide any outsider who tried the same thing. This was a family, who took that term seriously and lived up to all its implications. And they enjoyed each other's company. Despite the incessant teasing of one another, Laurie and Keith thought nothing of spending time together and it was a similar picture with Keith and Danny. Chris and Tracy were virtually inseparable and Laurie and her mom shared a very special mother/daughter relationship. They were a warm and generous bunch of people. And they had welcomed him into their little enclave. He spent more time with them either on the road or at their home than he did at his own bachelor pad, although that changed when Bonnie was in town, of course. From the outset, they had made him feel welcome and that had progressed to gentle, familial teasing. Now, he was more or less a member of the family. Birthdays, Christmas and holidays had been spent at the Partridge home. There had been laughter, tears and lots of enjoyment along the way.   
  
Now, staring down at the pallid face of their 'leader', he wondered if anything would ever be the same again.  
  
*****  
  
Morning came and with it, the dawn chorus began, whistling a melodic tune to greet the slowly rising sun. As the first tendrils of light speared through the window, banishing the dark shadows and gradually bringing radiance to the room, so Keith began to stir.  
  
The first sign of his return to full awareness was the merest shudder of his slight body under the sheets and a mumbled, incoherent half-sentence. Reuben, close to nodding off in the chair, was instantly alert, rubbing his eyes free of the grittiness of a sleepless night. Leaning forward, he laid a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder, letting him know that he wasn't alone. Another mumble, this time the words more discernible. "Mom …Mom …?"  
  
"Easy, kid, easy," Reuben soothed as the young singer tossed restlessly. "It's okay. Your mom's here. I'm here. Keith …?"  
  
The long dark eyelashes fluttered against pallid cheeks, blinking sleepily until they finally opened to reveal confused hazel eyes peering out onto the world. "Reuben …?" The teenager's voice was hoarse and hesitant and his face was puckered in a bewildered frown.   
  
"Yeah, kid, it's me," confirmed the manager with a smile.  
  
The frown deepened. "I don't understand. I …"  
  
"Sssh, sshh, kid, it's okay." Reuben patted Keith's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't try to figure it out. You had a rough day yesterday."  
  
Keith nodded. The memories of the previous 24 hours were a little fuzzy to say the least. He remembered bits and pieces but it was all so jumbled. Pain. There had been pain. He could still feel a twinge here and there - his lungs, for instance, felt like they had been put through a wringer - but the actual discomfort itself was but a distant echo in his memory. Something he recalled with a shudder without exactly knowing now how it had actually felt. He recollected some of the events from the night before - how Joni had used him, forcing him into a situation where he was no longer in control, And as his mind sorted through the chaos of his own thoughts and memories, processing them into some semblance of order, so the guilt and shame returned, assailing him with such force it physically hurt.  
  
As Reuben watched, the bloodless face blanched even whiter and tears appeared in the big brown eyes, one spilling over to trace a fine wet trail down one stark white cheek. "Hey, hey," he said, consolingly, "it's okay, Keith. It's gonna be fine."  
  
The lower lip trembled as Keith regarded him. "No, it's not!" he sobbed. "Reuben …"  
  
"I know, kid, I know." Reuben was lost as his young charge's emotions tried to swamp them both.  
  
"I'm sorry …"  
  
"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? You didn't do anything!"  
  
"'xactly." More tears made their way down the ashen face. "I didn't do anything to stop her."  
  
"Right. And can you tell me just exactly what you would have done?" Reuben demanded. "That girl was bad, through and through. Whatever happens to her - well, she deserves it!"  
  
Keith stared at the manager open-mouthed. He had never heard such venom in Reuben's voice before. "But …"  
  
His protest was cut off as Reuben rose from the chair and started pacing. "She used you, Keith," he said, furiously. "She used you for her own ends and then left when the going was good. She's no good, and no-one saw that. Not one of us. You hear? We were all taken in by her - even Greg believed her and he'd had experience of her doing this kind of thing before. Only last time her victim wasn't so lucky." Greg had finally related to him the tale of Joni's previous 'conquest' and the ultimate consequences of his foray into the world of drugs, courtesy of Joni herself. He shuddered as he realised how close they had come to losing Keith to the same kind of tragedy. It had been damn close. It had been too damn close by far.   
  
He shook his head to clear it of the horrifying image which had suddenly presented itself there. Keith Partridge, star of the family, apple of his mom's eye, lying in a twisted, pitiful heap on the floor. Not moving. Not breathing. Dead. A cold shiver travelled the length of his spine. Then he became aware that he was being regarded in wide-eyed astonishment by said Partridge Family star - very much alive and seemingly, so Reuben recognised, belatedly, at least partly recovered from the effects of the narcotics and alcohol Joni had forced into him twenty four hours earlier.  
  
"Uh, how do you feel?" he asked the young singer, returning to the bed and peering down at him, intently.  
  
Reuben had switched gears so suddenly that it took a moment for Keith to assimilate the question. "Um .. slight headache," he replied, uncertainly, "and my chest hurts, but … better. I feel … better." And it was true, he suddenly realised, with a jolt of surprise at the revelation. He did feel better. It hadn't occurred to him upon first awakening, although he had been vaguely aware of feeling much worse than this the last time he was awake. He hadn't thought to examine that thought, however, because of the memories which had rushed in on him, but it was true. Everything ached of course, like he'd gone ten rounds with a grizzly, but he could breathe easier and his limbs no longer hurt every time he moved. Even his headache had eased from the agony which had almost blinded him not a few hours before. "I do, Reuben," he confirmed, in wonder. "I feel better. I … I'm thirsty, though …"  
  
"Thirsty?" Reuben stared at him blankly for a moment, then, "Thirsty ! Of course you are! I'll get you some water. Wait there. Don't go away. I'll - right I'll go get some water."  
  
The Reuben of a few moments before had unnerved Keith somewhat. This Reuben, however, was acting completely in character. Bumbling, nervous and flustered. It almost brought a smile to his face. Almost. Before he knew it, the manager had returned, bearing a glass of water with as much pride as if he was offering the young man an Academy Award. Carefully, Keith struggled to a sitting position in bed and leaned back gratefully against the pillows which Reuben hastily piled behind him. Accepting the glass from the older man, he wrapped both hands around it - partly to keep it still, he was still pretty shaky - and savoured the chill against his skin. He took a cautious sip, then another and another, until eventually, he drained the glass and handed it back.  
  
"You really needed that, huh?" Reuben commented, approvingly, as he studied the glass and noticed the return of some colour to the boy's pale face. The hours of relentless worry were almost forgotten as he ruffled Keith's hair, and was rewarded with a hesitant half-smile. "You know, you should probably eat something," he continued, more sternly, as he assiduously studied the thin form which even the covers did nothing to conceal. The boy needed nourishment, that was for sure. "I could call room service …"  
  
"I don't know," said Keith, doubtfully, shifting uncomfortably under Reuben's scrutiny and very much aware of its cause. Reuben had voiced his concerns before about his lead singer's slenderness. He couldn't help it usually. He expended a lot of energy on stage - and in the normal course of a day, come to that. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his food, or that he didn't eat. He had always figured that he had a very high metabolism. And he wasn't the only one. Laurie, too, was very slim but no-one ever seemed to worry about her. Occasionally he had felt ever so slightly picked on. It had been a great relief when Danny had gone on his slimming kick for Gloria Hickey's party - except that they'd all ended up as untrained counsellors to Reuben and Danny at all hours of the night and day. That had been a nightmare. But not as much as a nightmare as this was. And that's what he wished it was. Something he could just wake up from; to discover that it had never actually occurred. That way he could be free from the guilt and shame which still beset him like twin beasts. He knew Mom and Reuben blamed themselves for the mess he was in now - and he didn't for the life in him understand why. It just added confusion to his disgrace and the contempt he still felt for himself. All he really wanted to do was go back to sleep and forget everything that had happened, but Reuben's attention was still riveted on him and he was obviously not going to go away until he got the answer he wanted. Oh what the hell … "Okay," he demurred in defeat. "Send for something from room service, Rueben. Only … "  
  
"Only what?" enquired the manager genially as he started to turn away with a triumphant grin.   
  
"Make it something simple, huh? I … I don't think I could stomach anything spicy or .. cooked right now."  
  
"Don't worry, kid," said Reuben, slapping him gently on the shoulder as he turned to use the phone. "How's plain toast and scrambled eggs sound?"  
  
Keith forced a sickly grin. "Yuck?" he managed.  
  
Meanwhile, on the sofa across the room, Shirley surreptitiously wiped away a stray tear at the conversation. She had woken up at Reuben's tirade and had been an avid listener ever since. It broke her heart to hear the sadness in her son's voice, but she was so relieved that he seemed recovered now, if not from his emotional pain, then at least from the physical suffering. He was alert and talking and everything. He had even managed a little humour. Once again, she thanked god for Reuben. His no-nonsense style and the love he had for the family was proving to be one of its biggest assets.  
  
Breakfast was slow in coming. While they waited, Reuben kept up a steady stream of conversation, sticking mostly to inane subjects as well as a rather one-sided discussion about the family members and their personal 'quirks'. For once, he didn't mention the scheduled performance, nor voice his worries about how the family were going to perform with their star out of commission. Nor did he make any allusions to what had happened to the young man, figuring that he didn't need the reminders - not if that haunted, lost expression in his eyes was anything to go by.  
  
For his part, Keith merely sat back and let Reuben waffle on. The manager was in full flow and even had the teenager wanted to interrupt, he would have been hard pressed to do so. He couldn't get a word in edgewise. So, he offered up the occasional "yes, Reuben," and "No, Reuben," as the circumstance demanded and tried very hard not to think about the direction in which his life appeared to have gone.  
  
Shirley, lying on the sofa, feigning sleep, listened as Reuben's voice continued, She knew he was trying to distract Keith from his problems - and subtly remind him that he had a loving family to support him at the same time. Why else mention each and every member of that family by name and at such great length? She also knew that it seemed to be having little if no effect on her firstborn. His muted responses to the manager's words tore at her heart. There was such despair behind them, such utter desolation. She had spent many sleepless hours during the night racking her brains for a way to help her eldest son and had come up empty. She couldn't bear to see him so dispirited, so desperately unhappy, although she could certainly understand the reasons why. She had to do something to convince him that none of this was his fault, that it was completely out of his control, and that losing that control was not a failure on his part, but a part of being human. But how could she accomplish the seemingly impossible? She had already used all these arguments - seemingly to no avail - and she dreaded what the guilt and shame he was suffering would do to him in the long run. Oh, it was all such a mess and she had no idea how to fix it!  



	15. Chapter 15

Room service finally arrived, accompanied by Laurie and Danny. Together with Willie, they had kept the two youngest Partridges amused and distracted the previous night until, finally, completely worn out, they had gone to their rooms to get some much-needed sleep - ensuring the kids were in bed first. Willie had bidden them 'goodnight' in the foyer and had left for his own bed.  
  
Both had awoken with the first stirrings of dawn and arrived at Reuben's suite simultaneously - just as breakfast was being delivered. The pleasant aroma of toast and the coffee Reuben had ordered for himself wafted through the hall, awakening their own hunger and they eagerly placed their own order for breakfast with the staff member who had delivered Reuben's.  
  
When they entered the suite, both were delighted and relieved to find their elder brother awake and alert. But it soon became painfully clear that whilst his physical strength might be returning and his body was healing after its ordeal, the same could not be said for his emotional state. Oh, he put on a good act in front of them, but they both knew him well enough to recognise it for what it was - an act. It hurt them to see him so disconsolate and withdrawn and Laurie's own feelings of remorse for her inability to recognise Joni's addiction for what it was returned in full force.  
  
By this time. Shirley had stopped pretending that she was asleep and had crossed the room to wish her eldest son good morning, cupping the pallid face in one hand and kissing him lightly on the forehead. Her heart ached at the feeble smile she received in return. All she wanted to do was take him in her arms and hold him until the pain was gone. But it wouldn't help. She knew that. So she settled for smiling gently at him and taking one limp, unresponsive hand in her own, stroking the long fingers tenderly with her thumb.  
  
Breakfast was a rather silent affair. Reuben tucked into his cooked meal with gusto, obviously enjoying every last morsel. His enthusiasm did not go unnoticed by the others. They watched in near fascination as he gobbled down the food, ensuring that his plate was clean at the end by wiping up the remains of fried egg and bacon with his bread roll. His coffee tasted wonderful and was a much needed stimulant if he was going to stay awake all day. As he replaced his cup, reaching for the pot to pour himself another, he became aware that he was being observed and glanced up..   
  
"What?" he demanded, querulously. All four Partridges were staring at him in something akin to mixed awe and amusement, half-smiles dancing around at least three of the faces.   
  
Shirley smothered a full grin. "Well, Reuben," she said, "I was just wondering if you were going to eat the plate as well."  
  
He sniffed. "I don't know what you mean," he replied, huffily.  
  
"Mr Kincaid, you personify greediness," commented Danny, folding his arms and regarding the manager with a huge smirk.  
  
"Greediness?" spluttered Reuben. "Personify?? I don't … I would … since when do you know words like 'personify', Danny Partridge?"  
  
The redhead shrugged noncholantly. "I go to school," he replied.  
  
"I know you go to school," Reuben said, scornfully. "I just didn't think you actually learned anything there."  
  
"Well, I do! I learn a lot at school. For instance, I learn it's rude to gulp your meals down and that if you do that, you'll only get indigestion."  
  
"Indigestion?" Reuben scoffed. "I won't get indigestion."  
  
"Is that because you always eat like that and your stomach's made of cast iron and is used to it?"  
  
Danny's voice was deceptively sweet and Reuben suddenly experienced a fervent desire to wipe the smile off his face. But he wasn't a child batterer and besides, Shirley would kill him. So he resisted the impulse. But only just. "I tell you what, Danny," he said, forcing calmness into his voice. "You eat the way you want and I'll eat the way I want. How does that sound?"  
  
"Like a cop out," Danny replied.  
  
"A cop out? Why, you .. you .."  
  
"Children! Children !" Shirley interjected, sensing a full scale battle about to be launched and not sure it was a good idea, considering the circumstances at present. She glanced at Keith then turned back to the two protagonists. "Let's just stop fighting and let Reuben finish him meal. That is, if you're going to eat the napkin as well, Reuben?"   
  
He just stared at her. Betrayed by a fellow adult. It was enough to make a grown man cry. "Well, if that's the way you feel," he said, crabbily, "I'll eat in private from now on."  
  
"Oh Reuben, you know we don't mean it." Laurie tried to pour oil on troubled waters, but they all knew that this was just for show. An act in an attempt to pretend things were normal.   
  
But things weren't normal. When Shirley glanced back at Keith, she noted that he had barely touched the food that had been set in front of him and her heart sank. She tried not to say anything but mother's instincts over-rode good sense and she leaned over him, pushing stray tendrils of dark hair away from his face.   
  
"Aren't you hungry, honey?" she asked him, gently.  
  
He shook his head. "I … I don't think I'm ready yet," he whispered. "Please, mom, can you take it away?"  
  
She couldn't resist that note in his voice. He looked like a little boy, not her almost grown-up son. He was lost and sad and hurt and more than ever she wanted to take him in her arms and protect him from all the bad things in life. But it was too late for that. The bad things had already come and got him. And he might never recover from it.  
  
Laurie, watching, could take no more. "Oh god, Keith," she sobbed, flinging herself onto the bed and hugging him as tightly as she dared, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault! I should have realised … but I didn't … I'm so, so sorry!"  
  
"Laurie …" Shirley watched, horrified, as her eldest daughter threw herself at Keith, accepting all the blame for his condition without a moment's thought. For his part, Keith looked utterly bewildered and stunned, even as he automatically wrapped his arms around his sister, trying to comfort her for something he knew was his responsibility, and feeling completely dazed by the amount of people trying to accept the blame.   
"Laurie …" His voice tailed off as she cried bitterly into his shoulder, gripping him so tightly that it almost hurt. He could feel her distress pouring off her in waves and involuntarily, a tear escaped from him, too.   
  
Danny was stupefied. He couldn't believe this was happening. The family was unravelling before his eyes and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Tearing his gaze away from the emotional scene in front of him for a moment, he risked a glance at Reuben, who seemed just as dismayed as he was. The manager just shrugged at him, helplessly and Danny returned to observing the hysterical sobbing of his older sister, shifting uncomfortably and fervently wishing he was anywhere but here.  
  
It took some moments before Laurie could get herself under sufficient control to realise what she was doing. Her actions had been instinctive and emotionally motivated. As her sobbing died away, she began to feel ever so slightly chagrined and lifted herself out of her brother's arms with an embarrassed sniffle. She couldn't look him in the face at first, but eventually caught him staring at her out of the corner of her eyes and shrugged self-consciously. "Oh brother," she managed, with a hiccup, "I … I'm, sorry, Keith. I mean … I'm sorry for doing that. I … I didn't hurt you, did I?" This last as she realised she had been practically pinning him to the bed during her outburst.  
  
He shook his head, still too confounded to speak. He couldn't understand where all this self-recrimination was coming from. If anyone was to blame, then it was him. All this insistence on apportioning accountability elsewhere for what had happened was beginning to grate just a little.   
Shirley slipped an arm around her daughter as Laurie rose rather shakily from the bed. There was the suspicious evidence of moisture in her own eyes as she exchanged glances with the attractive brunette.  
  
"I … I'm sorry, Mom …"  
  
"Oh honey, it's all right," Shirley reassured her. "I know how you feel. But really, it's not your fault, you know. I already told you, you couldn't know what Joni was really doing. After all, she spun a good tale. We were all fooled. If anyone's to blame for all of this then it's me - I should have never have let Keith go to that party. If I hadn't then this wouldn't have happened and …"  
  
"Now, now, Shirl," Reuben interjected, hastily, "We all know that I should have been watching out for Keith's best interests. That's what I'm here for after all. I've been around people like this before - well, you know, in my line of work you see all kinds, " he hurried to explain off their shocked expressions. "I should have seen this coming. I feel responsible for all of this and …"  
  
Keith had had enough. He felt bad enough, without having everyone around him constantly condemning themselves for something which was his fault and his fault alone. Wasn't it enough that he was so disgusted at himself, felt himself to be an odious human being with no redeeming features? Now he was not only sickened by his own worthlessness, he was being forced to listen to everyone else in the room torment themselves for no good reason. It was purgatory - and it was also confusing the hell out of him.   
  
"Stop it! Just … stop it!" he yelled, becoming completely overwrought. "How can you all be to blame? It was my fault - all of it … you can't blame yourselves. You shouldn't. It wasn't your fault. It was mine … it was all mine … I let Joni … I mean … oh god …" As he broke down, he found himself enfolded in his mother's comforting embrace and leaned into her, venting his frustrations against her shoulder. He could hear her voice soothing him as she stroked his back, but he couldn't make out the words, just the emotions behind them. His mind was whirling with so many different feelings he didn't know how to process them all. He didn't know which one to feel any more, which should take precedence over the others. Guilt, shame, anger, betrayal and hurt all vied for supremacy, and he felt like screaming in an effort to drown them all and stop the clamouring in his brain. Slowly, however, agonisingly slowly, he became more aware of his mother's arms around him and how good it felt to be held in them. And two more emotions entered the equation - love and fear - and they were coming from his mom. Sighing, he gradually let them wash over him, gradually eclipsing all the other feelings. He felt warm in her embrace, warm and loved and safe. And he realised that that safety was what had been taken from him at the hands of Joni. She had made him feel vulnerable, unlovable and constantly threatened. It occurred to him that he hadn't felt secure like this since this whole thing had begun, and he revelled in the love which was radiating from his mom, recognising at last that in her at least he had an ally, someone who would never abandon him no matter what had happened, no matter what he had done. He was still tormented by the memories of what had happened, what he had allowed Joni to do, regardless of how supposedly helpless he had been and he realised that right now, he didn't care if he never saw another girl as long as he lived - partly because he didn't know how he was going to react if they came onto him. But he had regained a little trust in himself, because his mom trusted him, and, strangely enough, because of the self-reproach from everyone else which had driven him to his eruption. He still couldn't understand why everyone else was so intent on censuring themselves and he didn't agree with it - any of it, but somewhere deep within a small tendril of hope flared and a little healing began.   
  
As his breathing eased and he grew still in her arms, Shirley eased back, lifting his chin from her shoulder and peering intently into his face. She felt a pang of sorrow at the new lines of strain there; the dark shadows still so evident under the brimming brown eyes, but there was a small spark in those eyes now, a flare of life which gladdened her mother's heart. The healing process had a long way to go, she knew, but it had begun at least, and much faster than she had ever anticipated or even begun to hope for. It must be something to do with the love he felt from his family, she decided, although a large part was attributable to his tremendous will and his own ability to bounce back from adversity - he'd shown that before time after time, most especially when his father had died and he had stayed strong for the others, despite his own pain. She had been so proud of him then. She was proud of him now and as he found a smile for her, her heart quickened. It wasn't the full, dimpled grin for which she loved him so, and which attracted the girls in droves at their concerts, but it was a start. "Honey?" It was an unvoiced question and he nodded, slightly.  
  
"Yeah … I … I'm okay, mom," he said, in a voice made husky by emotion. "I … I will be anyway …"  
She nodded, and hugged him to her again and he went willingly into her arms, snuggling up against her, needing the contact, the reassurance. She knew that there would be long, dark days ahead, days when he would succumb to the almost overwhelming depression which was still lurking beneath his outward countenance. There would be many problems to overcome apart from that, too - he was not going to be the same ever again. Something within him had been irrevocably changed now. It was up to all of them to provide the love and reassurance he would need to get him through the days ahead. She only hoped they were all up to the challenge.  
  
Danny and Laurie, watching, could see the slight change in their older brother, witnessed the small smile he bestowed upon their mom and heard his words. He was going to get better. Their brother was back. They both smiled thankfully as they stood, with their arms around each other, basking in the new day and the sunlight which now streamed gloriously through the window. Reuben, however, could see the new shadows in his young singer's eyes, couldn't help but notice the furrowed brow and the strained smile. Everything was such an effort, and it was going to remain so for some time to come. He hoped that Keith would recover from all of this - but he wasn't entirely sure that that was going to happen. And he still held on to his terrible secret, one which he had no intention of ever sharing with the Shirley. She would have enough to contend with, helping her eldest son get over this trauma, helping him forget - or at least forgive himself. His manager's instincts never far from the surface, he couldn't help but wonder whether this was the end of them as a group. How could Keith even function as a singer again when his confidence had been so undermined? When his ebullient nature was so damaged? It saddened Reuben to think of the talent which might ultimately go to waste because of Joni and her selfish desires. And once again he wished she was dead.  
  
*****  
  
A few hours later, he learned that he had gotten that wish. It gave him no pleasure, nor did it bring any solace to Shirley when she heard from Greg about the girl's untimely and terrible demise. Joni had done immeasurable damage to her son, and she hated her. But now she found herself feeling very sorry for her, too. In the end, her own weakness had killed her and although she had deserved punishment, she had not deserved to die in that way, alone, in such terrible conditions, away from everyone who might have loved her. However, it was the life she had chosen for herself and thus she had chosen her own destiny.  
  
Keith wasn't told about Joni right away, but he wasn't stupid, or slow and he learned about her death from the others' reactions. Laurie and Danny had found out from their mom and had strict instructions not to mention her to their brother.   
  
Danny felt vindicated at first, commenting that she had deserved to die and he was glad, but he went very quiet very suddenly and Laurie sensed that he was regretting his words, that he felt responsible for the girl's death - almost as though he had killed her. She knew there was nothing she could do to assuage that guilt but she tried anyway. It seemed that, even from beyond the grave, Joni had a way of reaching out and hurting people.  
  
Keith was not surprised when he realised what they were hiding from him. Joni had been on a path of self-destruction and had seemed intent on taking others with her, including him. It didn't make him feel any less wretched but something within him seemed to take a sick pleasure in knowing that the heroin to which she had tried to get him addicted had taken her life, and that in itself only served to heighten his self-disgust.  
  
Still, the utter depression which he had felt at the height of the narcotic's hold seemed to have lessened - which he put down to the intensity of the drug's effect on his emotions, and he recovered very quickly from the physical legacies of the heroin. The muscle pain, the strained lungs, the headaches had soon eased to bearable levels. By the third day after the ordeal had begun he was up and about, itching for something to do - partly to take his mind off the memories which continued to beset him, and, finding his guitar, began to play around with it, strumming quietly to himself. He had moved from Reuben's room back to his own and had been relieved to do so. His mom had continued to hover over him as though she feared a relapse or something and it had been driving him crazy. Not that Danny was any better. He never seemed to be out of the room, and if he was, he found excuses to return, some of them too implausible to take seriously. Keith longed to yell at him, to tell him to leave him the heck alone and go and do something useful, like take a long walk off a short pier, but feared that if he did so, everyone would turn up and fuss over him, worrying about his show of bad temper. So he endured it for the most part, scowling at the redhead behind his back and forcing a smile onto his face even whilst speaking to him in clipped, curt tones.  
  
The concerts they had been intended to perform had been postponed - at Keith's request. They had cited 'illness' as a cause. Keith had told Reuben that to cancel entirely was something he didn't want to do. After all, they owed it to their audience and the people who hired them to give some performances and he wasn't about to disappoint anyone. But he wasn't sure, either, that he could go back on stage. It was the second time in his life that he had suffered from stage fright. He remembered how his mom had conquered their fears the first time - 'close your eyes and pretend you're performing in the garage'. He wondered if that would work this time. Could he do it? There was only one way to find out - and if anyone was up for the challenge, then he was. If he could only forget about everything else. If only the memories would leave him alone!  
  
*****  
  
Two nights later, the Partridge Family made their first stage appearance in Denver in a small out of the way club which was, nevertheless, packed to the gills with fans and patrons alike. Keith paced endlessly backstage prior to the concert, and nothing anyone could say to him could calm him down. He knew he was beginning to freak everyone else out but there didn't seem to be anything he could do to stop it. He was petrified and he knew that it showed. But he was determined that he had to do this. Performing - singing, leading this group - was his whole life. He didn't know how to do anything else as well as this. Besides, he loved the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of power once he got onstage and the sheer enjoyment everyone in the audience derived from their songs. It was like a drug … 'bad analogy', he muttered to himself, then realised he had spoken aloud and all five members of his family were staring at him. He shrugged with an embarrassed laugh and stalked out of the door to pace the corridor instead. At least this would give his family a break.  
  
Ten minutes later he was on stage, surrounded by the people who loved him, with everyone waiting expectantly for him to begin. His throat was dry, he felt hot and sticky, his head was spinning and his knees felt wobbly. All in all, he was convinced that at any moment, he was going to make a complete ass of himself and crumple to the floor in a dead faint. The mic was a living thing in his hands, the thrum of electricity running through it a counterpoint to his own erratic pulse. There was an awful anticipatory silence, then Danny, taking the situation into his own hands, strummed a chord on his guitar. Luckily, it was the right one and as he led them into the first song, so the anticipation diminished somewhat, easing the pressure on the eldest of the Partridge brood. As the instruments joined in - Tracy's tamborine, Shirley's and Laurie's keyboards and Chris's drums, so Keith relaxed a little and even as the harmony hit a peak, introducing the singing part, so he launched into the first notes of 'Summer Days'. His voice was strong, melodious and perfectly pitched. It soared over the instruments, reaching sweetly over the audience, enrapturing them and binding them in the spell that he weaved so expertly and so unwittingly. As was his practice during this particular song, he went to each of the family members in turn and found in their ready smiles and reassuring glances more strength and courage than he ever thought he had possessed. There was thunderous applause as the song built to a crescendo and finished and the family bowed thankfully to the audience's approbation. Their next tune was the catchy 'That'll Be The Day' and after another hour, they finished with 'I Can Feel Your Heartbeat'. As they completed the set, the audience, as one, offered them a standing ovation and they took several bows.   
  
They had to come back for an encore - performing 'One Of Those Nights' and 'Lay It On The Line', then, exhausted but giddy with relief and exhilaration, they left the stage.  
  
"Well, that was really something!" panted Laurie as they made their way down the steps to the dressing rooms.  
"It sure was," agreed Danny, heartily. "I think we should go back again and do one more song."  
  
"Danny, we're exhausted," his mother told him, firmly. "Besides, I don't think my fingers would let me play one more note."  
  
"Me neither," agreed Laurie. "How about you, Keith?"  
Their lead singer had barely been listening. He was feeling just the slightest bit dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. It had been a glorious night - even more so because of what it had taken to get them here. He felt very much like he could fly and it was taking him all his time to keep his feet on the ground instead of soaring above everyone in pure relief. "Huh? " came the intelligent answer to Laurie's question. "What?"  
  
"I don't think Keith's quite with us, Mom," teased the brunette. "In fact, I suspect that he'd like to go out and do it all over again. Maybe you and Danny could form a duo and go out together," she ventured to her dazed looking brother. "We'll just go and put our feet up."  
  
"And don't blame us if you lose your voice, or if you, Danny, find your fingers bleeding from too much guitar playing" admonished Shirley, gently.  
  
Keith didn't hear the whole sentence but enough filtered through to confuse him. "Uh?" he spluttered. "What?"  
  
Before Shirley or Laurie could explain, Reuben hurried forward through the throng of well-wishers at the bottom of the stairs and, under the guise of congratulating them on a great set - which praise he meant wholeheartedly - ushered them to their dressing rooms and privacy.  
  
"It was great, great!" he enthused as four of the six sank gratefully into the seats provided in the generous sized room. "How d'you all feel?"  
  
"Exhausted," sighed Shirley, leaning back into her chair with a contented sigh and closing her eyes.  
  
"Likewise," said Laurie, putting her feet up on the coffee table, and ignoring the pointed stare from the manager. "But it was fantastic."  
  
"Keith?"  
  
The young singer smiled at Reuben. His eyes were dancing and the dimpled grin was back in full force, so it seemed. His demons were being held at bay for the time being. "It was really cool, Reuben," he replied, animatedly. "It felt great!"  
  
Shirley had opened one eye and was staring at Keith as he spoke, searching for any deception in his words and bearing. But he was obviously enjoying the moment and she sighed with relief as she exchanged knowing glances with Reuben. This glow of joy couldn't last but they might as well revel in it for as long as they could. And it would behove them to encourage any pleasure which her firstborn might find in performing - or, indeed, in anything else. It might be the only way to get him through the days ahead when the blackness would inevitably descend and darken their lives. The rest of the family was trying very hard not to eye their older brother, but it was difficult when they were all still so worried about him. Even Chris and Tracy, who did not know the circumstances behind his recent incapacity seemed concerned, as well they might be. At least they didn't know the truth. Closing her eyes again, and trying to block out her own memories - images of her suffering son which would remain with her a long time, Shirley swallowed, hard. Keith had managed one performance - had come through with flying colours, in fact, although there had been a few moments there, at the start, where she had been convinced that he was about to faint from nerves. But there were other dates to play, other concerts, more performances and probably more nerves to suppress. And even without the presence of Greg Novak and his entourage, who had packed up and left town, prepared to use what little they had on the family to put together a short piece, the spectre of Joni and her actions loomed large and would continue to do so for some time.   
  
It was going to be a long tour. And an especially long summer.  
  
THE END 


End file.
